RV Havin Fun!

Countryside Campground, Mogadore, Ohio

You are the salt of the earth.  But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?  It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. ~ Matthew 5:13     Jesus turns His focus to His followers, those who believe in Him.  Did you notice that He says, “You ARE”, rather than you can be, or should be, or will be?  He expects those who love Him to be salt.  So how are we salt?  Salt can be either a good or a bad thing.  It’s a preservative.  It enhances the flavor of food.  According to Harvard University, “The human body requires a small amount of sodium to conduct nerve impulses, contract and relax muscles, and maintain the proper balance of water and minerals. It is estimated that we need about 500 mg of sodium daily for these vital functions.”  It’s a necessary mineral.  These are the good things God created salt for.  But if it loses its usefulness, it can’t be fixed.  It gets thrown out.  The Romans used salt to destroy a conquered people.  They would sow it into the ground and ruin the land so nothing would grow.  We’ve witnessed this in the ‘tree boneyards’ we’ve come across on our travels, where hurricanes or erosion have allowed the ocean to creep in.  The salty water destroys the trees and any other foliage.  Jesus expects us to be salt.  He expects our lives to reflect His own, and be useful and good in the lives of those we come in contact with. 

I hardly know where to begin.  Our lives quickly became a whirlwind of activity after we arrived back in Ohio.  Once we arrived home, we began house-hunting in earnest.  Surprised?

This is something we (mostly I) have talked about for several months now.  We came home with the thought that we’d look around a bit, but if the perfect place didn’t appear, we’d wait.  We (mostly Blaine) weren’t desperate for a house yet.  He still has a lifetime of full-timing in him, but I felt a strong pull to set up a permanent place – to entertain, to have family and friends over, to spread out, to serve the Lord.  And so, I’ve been praying for a few very specific qualifications – the perfect house at the perfect price in the perfect location with a place to park the motorhome on the property.  Not much to ask for from my Father.  😊 

Originally, we thought condo because we really didn’t want all the responsibilities that come with homeownership, but the price of a condo, the exorbitant HOA fees, the storage fees for the motorhome, and the discovery that those HOA fees really covered nothing except mowing a tiny patch of grass, turned us toward a house instead.

We looked at four with the agent who sold our previous home as well as Blaine’s parents’.  Tyson Hartzler at Keller Williams is a fantastic agent who listens to what you want and really knows his business.  All the houses we looked at were empty which seemed weird to us.  And then, one day, Blaine ran across a new listing online, called Tyson and said, “We don’t know the area.  Is it worth looking at?”  “Yes!  Let’s go right now!”  It was about 7pm.  So off we went, met Tyson and his three young sons (along with his pontoon boat 😊) and looked at the empty house.  Almost immediately Blaine and I felt comfortable with it and we made an offer on the spot.  Tyson worked his magic and suddenly, we were homeowners again!

And our gracious Heavenly Father saw fit to bless us by meeting every request, with a minor shift in location.  We’re about 20 minutes south of our ideal, but He knows what He’s doing.  We can’t wait to see what He has in store for us!

There were lots of other things going on – like both of us needing oral surgery almost as soon as we arrived in town.  If you’d take a look at our May calendar, you’d see something in every single block!

Then there were family gatherings of one sort or another – graduation, birthday, brother and sister in town, grandkids spending time with Gma & Gpa, friends . . . .

And the house took up an abundance of time once that settled on June 15^th!  But I’ll leave that for the next post.

For now, enjoy the pictures!

That’s it for Post #1. See ya soon!

Little Beaver State Park, Beaver, West Virginia

The LORD is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; He knows those who take refuge in Him. ~ Nahum 1:7

Today we traveled the remainder of the miles home!  We’re so excited to see everyone! 

The blog will be on snooze until sometime after July 6^th.  I didn’t take any travel pictures today, but I want to leave you with one more thing.  My annual May 9^th testimonial.  It’s now been 21 years since I wrote the following to share at my then church!  So hard to believe!  And although there are many testimonials and God Moments I could share, I think this one will always stand out.

    For those of you who may not be aware, I work in a veterinary office.  On Thursday, May 9th 2002 sometime between 5 and 5:30 that evening, I was bitten by a 165# Great Dane we were seeing in the office.  It happened very fast and unexpectedly with no warning.  A bite first to my forearm and then to my hand.  The wounds themselves did not appear bad, (especially considering the size of the dog!) but I was concerned about broken fingers and called Blaine to take me to City Hospital’s emergency room right away.  While there, I was given an hour and a half of IV antibiotics and a thorough cleaning of all wounds.  I left the hospital about 10:30pm with instructions to call for an appointment with Dr. Dietrich at the Summit Hand Center the next morning, for what I assumed was to look at and possibly set one finger with an apparent bone fragment.  I fully expected to be at work that afternoon.  But I really didn’t want my mom to have to take me all the way to Crystal Clinic, so Friday morning I called another doctor close to home to see about getting in there.  To their credit, they told me to see Dr. Dietrich.  My appointment was at 10:30am.  By noon, I was in surgery to relieve a severe infection that had set into 3 fingers literally overnight and following the surgery at Crystal Clinic, I went straight to St. Thomas Hospital for further treatments and observation. I spent 5 days in the hospital, was off work for 3 months, in therapy to rehabilitate my hand for 5 months and released from the doctor after 11 months.

      I pray that you will indulge me the time to share my testimony – it’s rather lengthy, but I believe God would have me share it.  After all, what good is it to hide His light under a bushel?  We are meant to share, not only with non-believers in an attempt to introduce them to a living God who loves and cares for them, but also with fellow Christians as a means of encouraging one another.           

    The following is a list of things I’m thankful for relating to my accident.  As long as it is, it’s still not a complete list. As I go through it, I will stop occasionally to share an exceptional story.  It truly has been an extraordinary walk of faith for me.  

I’m thankful the wounds were not worse.

I’m thankful that of all those who could have been bitten that night, it was me (had it have been the doctor, no one would have been able to work.  In addition, one of the girls has a daughter confined to a wheel chair, the other co-worker is in college.)

I’m thankful one of the girls at work told me to take off the ring my mother gave me when I was 16. (my hand and fingers swelled so much, they would’ve had to cut it off if I hadn’t taken it off right away.)

I’m thankful I was concerned about broken bones and went to the emergency room since the wounds themselves didn’t look bad. (I was later told by the doctor that the infection became so severe overnight that if I had waited to get treatment and hadn’t gone immediately to the hospital, I probably would have lost my hand and at least a portion of my arm.)

I’m thankful Blaine was available to take me to the hospital immediately. 

I’m thankful for the woman who was manning the check-in at the entrance to City Hospital. She was very helpful to me, but I never saw her again.

I’m thankful City Hospital’s ER was very slow when we arrived and I was seen almost immediately.

I’m thankful everyone working that night was kind, compassionate and skilled.

I’m thankful the doctor on duty called a hand specialist.

I’m thankful for the IV antibiotics and thorough cleaning I received as a result of that call.

I’m thankful that Dr. Blanda’s office was more concerned with proper patient care than making money. (this was the office that recommended that I go to Summit Hand Center the next morning right away instead of their office)

I’m thankful my mother was available and willing to take me to Crystal Clinic for my 10:30am appointment. (even though she had to leave work and hates to drive)

I’m thankful for the kind and efficient staff at The Summit Hand Center.

I’m thankful for the wisdom and skill of Dr. John Dietrich.

   When he walked into the room that morning, he said “hi” as he looked down briefly at my hand which was lying on the desk, and immediately said, “You’re going into surgery now.”  I said, “You didn’t even look at the x-rays!”, because I’m still thinking it’s only a broken bone. So he grabs an x-ray, holds it up to the light and says again, “You’re going to surgery now!”  I was speechless!  He was gone as quickly as he appeared, and a nurse entered almost immediately to get me ready. I could hear him on a phone at the end of the hall telling someone to reschedule all his appointments and get the surgery room & staff ready.  The surgery would take place there at the Clinic and then I would transfer to St. Thomas. In the mad rush, I asked my mom to call Blaine & my boss. It all happened so quickly I told her to tell Blaine not to even leave work, that we would call him from St. Thomas after I was settled there.  Did I mention how thankful I am for my mom?

I’m thankful for the sympathetic waitress at the Akron Family Restaurant where Mom & I had to stop on the way to St. Thomas because I was so nauseous, I had to get something to eat. (When we told the waitress I was feeling nauseous, she quickly brought rolls and water to the table before we’d even thought about ordering.)

I’m thankful for the kindhearted and friendly staff at St. Thomas Hospital.

I’m thankful for the bookmark I found in a book I asked Blaine to bring me that I hadn’t read in years.  (It said, 

   “All things work together for good for those who love the Lord” (Romans 8:28). I had it put up on the board in my room.)

I’m thankful for the physical therapy staff at St. Thomas Hospital.

    While the bite wounds themselves only consisted of three small cuts across the knuckles of my 3^rd and 4^th fingers and near the tip of the 1^st one, my surgery required 9 different incisions to clean out the infection that had set in. Those incisions were then packed with fabric drains that had to be removed and my hand soaked in a whirlpool twice a day.  After I returned to my room following the whirlpool therapy, the nurses repacked the drains into the incisions. On the first day (Saturday, May 11^th), I was taken to the therapy room where the therapist slowly began trying to remove the drains. To say it was excruciating would definitely be an understatement!  It was so painful that even the therapist became visibly very upset that her orders required her to hurt me so badly. She would tug a little, apologize profusely and get up and leave me to soak for a while, only to return and try again. The problem wasn’t because the drains were stuck, either.  Even I knew that, and I also knew that probably no amount of soaking was going to make it less painful.  After several times and many minutes of trying unsuccessfully to remove the drains, a doctor came in the room and asked how things were going. (and no, I wasn’t screaming)

And so – – –

I’m thankful that Dr. David Engles, the weekend doctor on call from the Summit Hand Center, came to the therapy room and stopped the packing removal, and changed my record to give me morphine 30 minutes prior to therapy rather than every few hours.  The best part of this particular story is that after he left, I thanked the therapist for going to get him.  She looked at me and said, “I didn’t, and the doctors NEVER come in here.”

I’m thankful for extra potent pain medications – which I only needed prior to the whirlpool therapy.

I’m thankful for powerful antibiotics.

I’m thankful Dr. Engles allowed me to shower when the nurses didn’t think I should.

I’m thankful for all the expressions of love and concern given by so many. (I received numerous cards and calls, and there were meals brought to the house, even though both our sons were proficient in the kitchen at 15 & 17 years old).  To this day, there are still people who ask about my recovery. (That was then. I don’t get questions anymore. 😊)

I’m thankful Edwin Shaw refused to see me.

   After I was released from the hospital, once again, in my selfishness, I didn’t want to be driven or drive all the way to Crystal Clinic for daily therapy.  Dr. Dietrich said that was OK, but I must find a therapist who specialized in hands and I must start immediately.  I called Edwin Shaw (because they were close to our home) and was told that they did have one, but that they couldn’t see me until my worker’s comp claim was approved – weeks or months later!  In frustration, I hung up the phone and sat at the kitchen table and prayed, “OK God, I’ve been trusting You in this so far, I’m just going to trust you now.  Wherever you want me to go, even if it’s all the way to Crystal Clinic every day, I’ll do it.”  I felt better and called St. Thomas next, reasoning that I was just a patient there, so if they had hand therapists, I should be able to get in and it was still closer than Crystal Clinic.  They agreed and on my first visit, I met Denise Elsey.  And I’m thankful that my mother-in-law was available and willing to drive me there.  After Denise questioned me and filled out paperwork, she asked to be excused for a minute.  I assumed she was considering her course of action, but when she returned, she said, “You live in Green, right?” “Yes.”  “I take my daughter to Green High School every morning, how would you feel about meeting me at the new Y for therapy?”  I couldn’t believe it! It required driving on 3 back roads and less than 10 minutes from my house!  I could drive that easily with only my left hand.  Immediately I said yes!  And so – – – –

I’m thankful for Denise Elsey, my hand therapist, who suggested we meet at the YMCA in Green.

    But there’s even more to this part.  Shortly after we started, with no knowledge of her spiritual convictions (or lack of them), I sent her a thank-you note and told her how I knew she was an answer to prayer, explaining the process of our meeting.  The morning after she received it, I was greeted at the door with a smile and a hug and told that, for years she had wondered if she was where God wanted her to be, and my note confirmed that for her.  And during therapy, she told me of her struggles to find God’s will for her life.  (She also told me to always do what she said and not what the doctor said.  She told me to nod and agree with him, but only do what she told me. 😊)

I’m thankful that for 11 months Dr. Dietrich expressed his amazement at my progress. On occasion, he would even bring in an intern to see me.  At one of our last meetings, I reminded him that my faith was very important to me and that for me to try to fully understand the healing God had given me, I needed to know why he was so surprised.  He explained that mine was one of the worst bite wounds he had ever treated.  Usually, they require 2 or maybe 3 incisions.  Mine required 9 and the fact that I was sitting across the table from him almost 100% restored was, in his words, “nothing short of remarkable!” (If he could see me today, he might be even more impressed.  I have 100% full use of every aspect of my hand.  The only way you would ever know, is if you look at the scars left behind, and even those are fading with time.)

I’m thankful for the love and care given me by my husband and two sons, both in and out of the hospital. I never once heard a complaint as they all pitched in to help at home, but Blaine expressed great joy when I could fold laundry again!

I’m thankful that one year later, almost to the day and just as my hand therapist told me, I was able to put back on the ring my mother gave me when I turned sixteen.  Did I mention how thankful I am for my mom?

I’m thankful that the following December, I accidentally discovered that I could snap my fingers again.

I’m thankful that I have almost 100% use of my hand again. Twenty years later, I have complete use.  And no, it didn’t take that long, just a few years.

I’m thankful that even now, I’m still able to share my testimony and praise God for it to numerous people I come into contact with.

I’m thankful to be able to see God work in my life through all of this – from the very moment it happened.

I’m thankful God allowed me the privilege of witnessing Him use me to touch the lives of some of those I’ve come into contact with and for using me to touch the lives of others in ways I’m not even aware of.

I’m thankful for the testimony this accident has allowed me to share about the love, mercy & grace of the God I worship & adore!!

   Almost since the moment of the accident, I was blessed with the irrefutable knowledge of God’s presence in my life and the privilege of being permitted to be used as He unfolded a small portion of His great plan.  And I am certain that there has been much more to His plan because of this than I will probably ever know.  I certainly do not believe that God “caused” my accident, or that it was His will.  But I do believe that it was allowed and what Satan may have intended for evil, God intended for good. 

   About a week ago, as I was sharing a small portion of this story with a Study group, a friend mentioned to the newcomers the remarkable healing I had received – I think because I didn’t really say much about the actual healing part.  It caused me to really think about why I didn’t dwell on it.  I’ve since come to the realization that right or wrong, the healing to me is actually secondary.  Maybe I’m not as grateful as I should be, or maybe I’ve always taken it for granted. But for me, the glorious part of this testimony is in recognizing all the seemingly small, everyday things that happened.  This entire list of things I’m thankful for.  I’ve come to realize that I really don’t focus on the healing and I really don’t want to, because I know that not everyone receives healing.  I don’t even remember ever praying for healing, though I know others did. My heart’s desire has always been to be a witness God would be pleased with. For everyone who hears any portion of this story, whether they are believers or not, to see at least a glimpse of a living God. And to be willing to be used by Him somehow. I think most people can see the intricate workings of God thru this story whether they want to admit it or not.  I realize now that the purpose of sharing this testimony is to encourage those who hear it to see how God is intimately involved in every way in each of our lives.  It’s just up to us to recognize Him.

    I believe we have two choices when life happens to us.  We can become angry or bitter and cry out, “Why?!” or we can see the situation as an opportunity to learn & grow, look for reasons to be thankful, and discover how God is truly involved in each and every aspect.  I believe God would have us find reasons to give thanks in all circumstances & to acknowledge His presence in both the good and the bad.  This is our duty, the reason He created us – to glorify Him.  And as I have discovered, it provides a perfect opportunity to plant seeds in the hearts and minds of people I never would have come in contact with, let alone spoken to about my Lord. 

Little Beaver State Park, Beaver, West Virginia

As we complete the beatitudes (or as I once called them “The Be Attitudes” 😊), I wanted to mention what I finally put together – – each of these, when followed, offer proof of our salvation.  We who claim to be children of God are to exhibit changed lives because of Jesus, which includes being poor in spirit (humble before God), mourning over sin, demonstrating meekness or humbleness before God, having an intense hunger for righteousness, showing mercy to others, being pure in heart, living as peacemakers, and standing under persecution because of our love for Jesus.

For two days we hiked and drove around our newest National Park – The New River Gorge National Park and Preserve aka The River of Death.  More on that later.  We hiked nearly 50,000 steps – and I mean HARD steps, including stair steps (one trail included a mere 821 of them).  This wasn’t a stroll along an asphalted or cement flat trail.  This was true hiking.  Mountain hiking.  And it was exhausting, but fun and stunningly gorgeous!  We understand why the West Virginia slogan is “Almost Heaven”.

The New River Gorge National Park and Preserve near Beckley, West Virginia protects and preserves 53 miles of the New River as well as 70,000 acres of the magnificent gorge this river has created.  In the words found on the National Park website: 

Established in 1978, New River Gorge National River was redesignated as New River Gorge National Park and Preserve in 2021. A rugged, whitewater river flowing northward through deep and spectacular canyons, the New River is actually among the oldest rivers on Earth. Here in southern West Virginia, the New River has carved and continues to carve the deepest and longest river gorge in the Appalachian Mountains.

Hiking along the many park trails, rafting the river, or biking along an old railroad grade, the visitor will be confronted with spectacular scenery that certainly makes this place worthy of being included in our national park system. However, the significance of this place goes well beyond the beautiful scenery. When looking out from Grandview, Diamond Point, Long Point, or one of the many other viewpoints in the park, we are actually looking at a globally significant forest containing the most diverse flora of any river gorge in the south and central Appalachian Mountains. The Appalachian Mountain forests are some of the oldest and most diverse ecosystems in the world. Here in southern West Virginia, the New River has sliced through the mountains, creating a mosaic of habitats: unfragmented forest, cliff and rimrock habitats, forest seeps and wetlands, and mature bottomland forests. These habitats provide a refuge for endangered mammals and rare birds and amphibians, including the endangered Virginia big-eared bat and Indiana bat and the Allegheny woodrat, a species of special concern in West Virginia and in decline throughout the eastern United States. The waters of the New River system contain a mosaic of hydrologic features and aquatic habitats that support a highly productive aquatic ecosystem that includes distinct populations of native fish, mussels, crayfish, and a broad array of other aquatic life, including rare amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals.

Looking out from the many fantastic viewpoints in the park will also provide a glimpse into the unique cultural history of the New River Gorge area that contributes to the significance of this place. From almost any viewpoint in the park one will see the railroad tracks that opened this rugged and isolated land to the outside world in 1872. From Grandview one will see the rail yards at Quinnimont, where coal was first shipped from the gorge, and the piers of an old bridge which once connected the timber towns of Hamlet and Glade. From Diamond Point hikers will gaze down at the ruins of Kaymoor, an early New River coal mining town. In addition to the coal mines and company towns found throughout the gorge are the old railroad depots, rail yards, rail grades, railroad equipment, and associated towns, like Thurmond, that were developed to support the railroad. Also contributing to the area’s rich cultural history are surviving examples of subsistence farms, former community sites, homesteads, and other places in the park where the ancestors of families long associated with the New River lived and worked. Bits of coal along the tracks, rows of old decaying coke ovens, gaping mine openings in the hillsides, old rusted mine cars, and the gravestones of early pioneer families provide tangible reminders of the people who worked and lived here during the late 18th and 19th centuries, supplying the coal and lumber that helped fuel the industrialization of our nation.

Today, New River Gorge National Park and Preserve is renowned for its excellent recreational opportunities: whitewater rafting, canoeing, hiking, rock climbing, fishing, hunting, bird watching, camping, picnicking, biking, and just enjoying the solitude the natural world. The Lower Gorge of the New River is a premier whitewater rafting location with imposing rapids ranging in difficulty from Class III to Class V, many of them obstructed by large boulders which necessitate maneuvering in very powerful currents, crosscurrents, and hydraulics. Commercial outfitters conduct trips down the river from April through October. The upper part of the river offers somewhat less challenging class I to III rapids for whitewater canoeing.

Of course, many of you may not know about the Park itself, but you may have heard tell or seen the famous bridge there.  Here’s what the NPS says about that:

When the New River Gorge Bridge was completed on October 22, 1977, a travel challenge was solved. The bridge reduced a 40-minute drive down narrow mountain roads and across one of North America’s oldest rivers to less than a minute. When it comes to road construction, mountains do pose a challenge. In the case of the New River Gorge Bridge, challenge was transformed into a work of structural art – the longest steel span in the western hemisphere and the third highest in the United States.

The New River Gorge Bridge is one of the most photographed places in West Virginia. The bridge was chosen to represent the state on the commemorative quarter released by the U.S. Mint in 2006. In 2013, the National Park Service listed the New River Gorge Bridge in the National Register of Historic Places as a significant historic resource.

Bridge Construction

The West Virginia Division of Highways chose the Michael Baker Company as the designer, and the construction contract was awarded to the American Bridge Division of U.S. Steel. In June 1974, the first steel was positioned over the gorge by trolleys running on three-inch diameter cables. The cables were strung 3,500 feet between two matching towers. Cor-ten steel, with a rust-like appearance that never needs painting, was used in construction.

The bridge spans a 3,030′ gorge and is 876′ tall. The arch is 1,700′. The bridge became the longest single span arch bridge in the World.

I found pictures on the National Park website taken during the construction of the bridge:

With its 3030 foot wide gorge, 876 foot height and single 1700 foot arch span design, the New River Gorge Bridge would become the longest single span arch bridge in the World.

If you’d like more information on the bridge check out

History

While looking for a couple of construction pictures, I ran across this website. If you’d like to learn a tiny snippet of what life was like as a builder of this bridge, check out:

https://www.register-herald.com/news/iron-men-of-the-gorge/article_bec6e491-1808-55b6-8644-02ed2c888d07.html

Our first outing, we were early enough to be blessed by heavy fog in the valley.  While one might think this a hinderance, it was breathtaking in its own way and we’re glad we didn’t miss it!

The first day was the most difficult as far as exertion goes.  The second was more relaxed and ran at a slower pace.  Good thing!  We could’ve spent another 4-5 days here to take it all in.  Maybe next time . . .

Because not only am I a week behind, but we’re back home in Ohio for this post, I simply don’t have the time to share all the stunning pictures we took.  In all actuality, it might have been easier to just add them all rather than trying to choose a few.  😊

One more thing I’d like to mention.  Back to ‘The River of Death’ reference.  In our BC lives (before children), we actually white-water rafted this fierce river with some family and friends.  It was a blast, but I only say that because all of us survived.  Thinking back, it’s truly a wonder we didn’t lose anyone!

First of all, you have the power of the river.  Second (and one of two most important things), was the fact that we had no river guide in the back of the boat, meaning that Blaine (as the man in charge in the back) was supposed to tell us how to maneuver our boat around rocks and through gully washers.  With his only experience thus far being piloting a canoe of two as we floated down a passive river in Canal Fulton, Ohio.  Plus participating in one previous white-water trip down the Gauley river, which was a ton of fun and felt safe with our experienced pilot in the back calling out orders. 

This time river guides were in separate kayaks calling out orders, their words battling the noise of the roaring river to reach the ears of those of us crazy enough to pay them to try to drown us. 

I mentioned there were two important factors.  The second was the fact that the life preservers we were given had no center strap between our legs.  Now you may wonder what difference that could possibly make.  I’ll tell you.  Once you fall out of the boat and miraculously make your way to calmer waters, your fellow passengers are expected to drag you back into the relative safety of the boat by tugging on your life jacket.  Take a guess what happens when there’s no strap.  The life jacket pulls right off over their head!  YIKES!! 

And yes, several times we bounced right out of that boat!  I think I remember that after one particular rapid, Blaine may have been the only one left inside! 

At one point, a lady we didn’t know made her way to shore and stood there shaking and insisting that there was no way she was getting back in her boat.  Another lady broke her ankle.We were blessed all of us survived.

Enjoy a few pictures from our two days here!

We now venture into Day 2.

The picture below is at an overlook of Sandstone Falls. We’ll get down there eventually. The rushing water is so loud you have to raise your voice a bit to talk, even way up here! The falls spans the river and is 1,500′ across. That’s five football fields! It drops 10-25′. Wouldn’t you think it would be the same all the way across?