Judy and I greatly enjoyed our trip down to Nampa, Idaho. Our primary purpose was to meet the people in our mission, the Nampa Sovereign Grace Baptist Church, and to administer the ordinance of baptism. Other than a few hours in a noisy hotel on Saturday night, I can honestly say that I, enjoyed every minute from 9:00 am on Thursday until 2:30 yesterday. We put 1250 miles on the car and spent a lot of hours therein, but we usually drove well below the speed limit when going down and saw a thousand different sights and varieties of country.
I should have better prepared and had some devotional Bible study ready for this evening, but I didn’t and don’t. What I’m going to do is describe our journey, which you made possible, and add scriptures which relate to some of the points. I won’t try to tell you that all these scriptures came to my mind as we traveled, but I wish I was that spiritual. And I wish that we had a computer with a projector so that I could give you some visuals, but I hope that you aren’t too bored.
Our trip down to Nampa.
“There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.” The best routes to take to Boise and Nampa would be US-95 in Idaho or US-395 in Washington. But we chose back roads for almost every mile of our journey, and in that choice was great pleasure. Jehovah, “Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.”
Thursday morning, we drove passed Lake Coeur d’Alene on I-90 and then down through Rose Lake along the Coeur d’Alene River to St. Maries. Christ said of Himself in Solomon’s Song, “I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.” We saw hundreds of different kinds of flowers, including a few lilies. We stopped in St. Maries, and walked around an antique mall for a few minutes, stretching our legs. I am guessing that St. Maries in some way honors the mother of Jesus. I believe that she is a saint, but not the way that many people picture her.
We paused as often as was safe to read the roadside historical markers. Between St. Maries and Clarkia many signs spoke of the Roman Catholic “missionaries” to the Indians. Those poor natives, dead in their sins and without the Word of God to guide them, were at the mercy of the heretics, but there was no true mercy given to them. Outside of Clarkia we had to drive past the garnet and fossil digs, because they were closed for the season. The fossils especially, testify to the Noahic flood which brought thousands of drowning creatures together, burying them in silt at particular spots and preserving their remains for 6,000 plus years. In regard to the garnets, don’t they testify to the beauty and creativity of the Creator? Do you suppose that the Lord will bring any of creation’s beautiful gems before the wicked at the judgment using them as rocks of offense? By about noon we came to the little community of Deary – where we had a sandwich in a little beautiful bakery/dairy/deli. The place was run by 8 or 10 long-skirted, clean-looking young people. Their shop was the old Ford dealership, and in the back they offered all kinds of crafting classes – from quilting to blacksmithing. “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies ( and garnets) She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.”
Leaving Deary we followed the Potlatch River down to the Clearwater River. Just before that descent, we could see the smoke of a prairie wild fire – It was destruction in one sense, but a blessing in another as it prepared the soil for next year’s grass. A thorn in the flesh of the soil, so to speak. Bro. Bill was wonderingif the drop into the Clearwater valley would be as steep as it is at Lewiston, but the drop off the plateau was several miles above the Clearwater, and it was not as severe as I remember the Lewiston Grade. During our trip, we drove through dozens of narrow gullies, valleys and canyons. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
We arrived in Lewiston in the mid-afternoon, and then we drove around town, and along the Snake River. We had plans to meet Sister Sharon Richardson at her house at 5:00. It was a good thing we drove around for a while, because streets in Lewiston are not laid out logically. Sharon has a nice house overlooking the city to the north, and beyond that – the Clearwater river. We took her out to dinner and then had a restful night at a good hotel in Clarkston. That day, we saw deer, elk (probably on a farm), turkeys, hawks and eagles and lots of lesser creatures.
Friday morning, we invited Sharon to join us for breakfast, and then we started east up the Clearwater River. We stopped at the bottom of the Dworshak dam, breaking the law by taking a few pictures. Then we spent an hour at the fish hatchery. Fish have been breeding successfully, since Genesis 1 when “every living creature … brought forth abundantly after their kind.” But man has stepped in, just as Adam did in Genesis 3, and those poor salmon and steelhead have had problems ever since. Somewhat like us, they need to be born again. After Orofino we followed the Clearwater and Lewis and Clark trail along the eastern edge of the huge Camas Prairie. One thing we noticed was that the earliest Indian missionaries in this area were Presbyterian rather than Catholic, so there is some hope that people were being saved. At Grangeville we finally joined US-95 for a few miles. We went down the long White Bird Grade into the Salmon River valley, and then into some spectacular canyons, with lots of kayaks and rafts. Several signs said things like, “The rafting capital of the world.” A hundred times throughout the week we either uttered or thought – that is a great spot for fishing.
About 4:00 Friday, we reached McCall, where the temperature had been in the 30s the previous night. While we were there I often thought about Willi Berg, because she used to live there. It is a nice little resort town – very touristie. Again, we had a restful night, after our second day on the road. After a leisurely breakfast on Saturday, we drove north again, up the west side of beautiful Payette Lake, and on up to the Little Payette, stopping several times to take pictures. Like the Sea of Galilee when Christ stilled the storm, both lakes were as still as glass, and as reflective as mirrors. On the west side we passed Wagon Wheel Bay, which I believe was first settled by Willi’s grandfather. Leaving the Little Payette, we drove down the east side of the larger lake, for a while, on dirt roads. That brought us back to McCall where we stopped again, and visited a farmer’s market. Then we headed south through the large and long Payette Valley – past the Cascade Reservoir. Going south the air began to get thick with smoke. There were some narrow canyons where the smoke was so dense we couldn’t see the top of the ridges. It was because of a huge, 20,000 acre, wild fire on the south side of the mountains down toward Boise. We were having a hard time breathing, as well as seeing. It made me wonder whether or not there will be smoke involved with the Lake of Fire.
Instead of continuing into Boise, I had planned to turn west along the north side of the Payette River. Just before the intersection, 3 or 4 cars stopped in the middle of the highway, for no apparent reason. Then we began to see at least a hundred motorcycles turning onto the highway. They were coming toward us from the highway we intended to use. We sat there for 5 or 10 minutes, and then I could see that the right turn lane was open, so I pulled into it. There was a burly, mangy female biker in the middle of the road stopping traffic so that her friends could rob the rest of the travelers of their right to drive on down to Boise. When I came up level to the woman and her even more burly and mangy husband, they started began screaming obscenities at me. I thought that I was going to have to outrun a hundred member biker gang. But when they saw I was turning east away from them, they didn’t pull out any of their weapons.
Again we followed the river, stopping at a beautiful little park below another of many dams. We probably saw a dozen different dams of various sizes during our trip. After starting up again, we came to Emmett, Idaho and eventually on to Nampa, crossing the Oregon trail. The Browns had graciously booked a hotel room for us, which we found relatively easily. After resting for an hour we drove another 30 minutes to the Brown’s house in the country south of town. There we met Bro. Chuck Bardin, the man to be baptized, listening to his testimony and fellowshipping. After the Browns fed us dinner in town we returned to the hotel – where on Saturday night it was noisy – our worst night, but certainly not unbearable.
Sunday, the Lord’s Day.
We returned to the Brown’s house about 9:30 Sunday. I had earlier contacted James Blackwell, about coming down to the service. He and his son, Joe, said that they would like to do that, but they missed the road, and so missed the Sunday School lesson. Brother James had an heart attack a few months ago, but looked to be doing reasonably well. “Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.” Brother Brown is an excellent teacher, and he is in the midst of a long series on God’s sovereign grace. There were 4 members of the mission present, plus 2 or 3 regular visitors, including Justin Sheppard, the young man who was in the truck accident a few weeks ago. Justin is in a neck brace but off all pain medication. Pray that the Lord might use him for His glory. I think that there is potential in that young man. There were also 4 members of the candidate’s family present, who are all lost, the 2 Blackwells, and Judy and I. So we had about a dozen people in the service. I preached a gospel message, which made some people obviously uncomfortable but others were delighted. And as happens here so often, it blended perfectly with the Bible Lesson taught earlier. In some ways they could have been a single message, but without any duplication.
After the service I explained the purpose and picture of baptism, getting into the Brown’s swimming pool. The water temperature was 86 degrees and I could have spent all afternoon in there. Brother Glenn assisted me as I immersed Chuck, who is probably in his 50’s and suffering from a bad back. He was a California police officer and was injured on the job when his car was rammed by a truck. In November, he is to have another in a series of major surgeries, and would appreciate your prayers. We planted him in the likeness of Christ’s death and raised him in the likeness of His resurrection. The man was elated to be baptized – thoroughly thrilled to testify of his faith in Christ. After the baptism, we all had a wonderful meal, with equally wonderful fellowship. When everyone departed, Judy and I went back to the hotel to rest, and then returned to meet the Browns for supper, spending the evening talking about their visits to Israel.
Homeward trip.
Monday was our earliest departure – we got a way at about 7:30, 6:30 your time. It took about an hour on I-84 and US-95 to Payette where the Blackwells live. Then we drove up US-95 though high desert country filled with rolling hills, sage brush and broom. At the town of Cambridge we turned west down a two lane highway into the Snake River basin, entering Oregon and coming up to the Oxbow dam, at the southern end of the Hell’s Canyon. Satan has certainly edited the truth about Hell. From what I have read and could see, Hell’s Canyon is beautiful and exciting – a far cry from Hell. The Bible tells us about Hell, and about Him who is the Governor of Hell. Jesus said, “I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, which after he hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him.” From Oxbow we passed the southern edge of the Eagle Cap wilderness with its 10,000 foot peaks. I really wanted to take the road north through those mountains, because they were about as close to Colorado mountains as we saw on the trip, but there would not have been time. Job once said, “The range of the mountains is (Jehovah’s) pasture, and he searcheth after every green thing.” The countryside south of the mountains was gorgeous – until we came to Baker City and back to I-84. After lunch, I set the cruise control on 75 until we came to La Grande, where we left the highway with the Eagle Cap mountains on the east and the Blue Mountains on the west. When we came to Elgin, Oregon, we turned west and crossed the beautiful Blues, whose name I have been hearing for twenty-five years. Those mountains may not be high in elevation, but we could see that they are well-watered, and are apparently a winter wonderland.
On the other side we passed through Milton Freewater and into Washington at Walla Walla. Our plans were to take the Nimmos out for supper, but they had made other plans for us. We got to their house at 4:00, rested and cleaned up a bit, then we met most of the mission members for supper at their favorite buffet. Everyone had a really good time. We spent Monday night with the Nimmos, taking them out for breakfast and leaving Pasco about 10:00. Mrs. Nimmo is doing very well with her naturopathic treatment for cancer. “If thou wilt diligently hearken to the voice of the LORD thy God, and wilt do that which is right in his sight, and wilt give ear to his commandments, and keep all his statutes, I will put none of these diseases upon thee, which I have brought upon the Egyptians: for I am the LORD that healeth thee.” Her tumor has been reduced, and it has inexplicably moved, but she is doing well. Brother Fred says that she is a different woman than she was just six weeks ago. Brother Nimmo, also, seems to be doing well.
Rather than hurrying home yesterday, we drove up US-395 to Connell then east toward Washtucna. That area of the country may not be all that interesting – ordinarily, but on this occasion, we were driving a route which had suffered a significant wildfire a few weeks ago. The charred countryside ran for nearly thirty miles. Eventually we came to Colfax, where we ate lunch. At that point we could have duplicated a journey north up US-195 which we have made twice before, but I chose to drive east through the Palouse to Palouse. I love the mountains, fast running rivers and canyons. “(The Lord) hath made every thing beautiful in his time.” But I have to admit that some of the most beautiful country on our whole trip were the rolling hills of the Palouse, with the ribbons of grain and stubble running across their sides. Then, rather than crossing into Idaho and finishing up on US-95 into Coeur d’Alene, we chose to stay on highway 27 through Tekoah, Latah, passing Karen and Mike Kjeldgaard’’s down onto Pines Ave. and home. We got to our house at about 2:30 yesterday. Thanks to Kathy we found everything at home in perfect condition, with our cat highly pleased to see us again.
I can’t say that we are fully “rested,” but we did return “relaxed” and blessed. As I say, other than some lost sleep on Saturday night, I enjoyed just about every minute of those six days. Judy might add that I drove through some of the mountains too quickly for her taste, but I think that she enjoyed it too. We praise the Lord for a great time. And we thank you, the Browns and the Nimmos.