Trailers & Childlike Faith

Nestled deep in the woods of Pittsburg, County Oklahoma, near Jackfork Mountain, sits one of the many places we called home when I was a little girl.  It was my step grand parents homestead and often when my step dad grew restless, we would load our worldly possessions up on a trailer and make our way to the Farm.

I have such fond memories of Grandma Farmer.  She was one of the most resourceful women, I've ever known.  She taught us to navigate the woods for arrowheads, fish in the creek, haul water from the well and play dominoes.  Looking into those kind blue eyes, you felt an assurance that she would endure, come what may.  Her life appeared easy and hard all at the same time. Pappy was nothing shy of an outlaw.  He frequently over indulged on the sauce and one night when we drove up unannounced, he came out in his tighty whities with two guns in his holster and one in his hand.  Welcome to the farm!  Cookie (my step dad) had to jump out flailing his arms about yelling..."It's us Pa don't shoot!"  Me and my brother would fight over who was gonna get out and open the gates to the property.  Past the cattle guard, the perimeter of the main house was surrounded by electric fences that had to be let down to enter the driveway.  Dodging cow patties while avoiding an encounter with "crazy" bull, brought our adrenaline up a whole other level. It never failed, my little skinny arms were never quite strong enough to release the electric fence without getting shocked!

Recently over a family dinner, my mom began to recall with me and my sister about one of the times, Pappy and Cookie got into a knock down drag out and He ran us off the property. It was the middle of the night and (of course) pouring rain.  We quickly loaded all our belongings in trash bags and put them in an old truck bed trailer hooked up to our blue Gran Torino.  When Pappy said to get off his property, you didn't stick around to sort out the details!  We made it several miles down the long dirt road before the lug nuts flew off one of the tires and careened our car into the ditch.  Stuck!  What to do? What to do? There are no houses, no lights and the likelihood of a passerby at that time of night was slim to none.

Then out of the blue, mom says that I leaned up and got her attention, "Mama we could lay hands on the trailer and pray for it."  I was seven years old, my brother nine and little sis one year old at the time.  What a wonderful mother!  She could have said my idea was silly, but instead, she encouraged my faith and we laid hands on that trailer and PRAYED!  Within just a few minutes someone with a truck passed by and saw we were broke down.  You have to know, that this just doesn't happen out there! This was the first of 2 miracles that night.

After the trailer was repaired, we made our way to the small town of Hartshorne. Unsure of where we would sleep that night, we pulled over, joined hands and began to pray a second time.  We didn't have enough money for a motel so Cookie drove us around until he found a trailer park.  He walked up to one of the nicer trailers and knocked on the door.  A man answered the door and as fate would have it, he happened to be the landlord of the trailer park.  After a short conversation, Cookie came back and said, "Well praise God kids!  We've got a place to stay!"  It was a gray trailer...I'll never forget it.  Mom says the man let us stay there for $225 per month without money down or any guarantee that we would actually pay.

When I think back on that time, the love we shared and the faith I had to believe God could heal a trailer..it strengthens me to the core.

If you happen to find yourself living through a moment that is breaking you down, raise your hands to the heavens and pray. Believe for a miracle.  It may not always show up in the way you expect, but rest assured if you look closely, the faithfulness of God will be revealed.
xoxo