Goldthwaite.
After a short afternoon stroll of about a dozen miles yesterday, I stepped into Goldthwaite, population 1,800. Anita, a friendly community denizen, stopped aside the local grocery store and invited me to her nearby church movie and potluck. Sincerely thanking her for her invitation, I informed her that as it was nearly 6 PM, I first needed to find a place to stay for the night, for as has been the case with so communities I reach on foot, I’ve arrived with no one awaiting me– or so I believed. Pastor Reece Bishop from the Mullin church, who’s been so helpful to me since the very first handshake, recommended the First United Methodist Church’s Pastor Carlos Cloyd to me. Reece told me he’d attempt to contact Carlos, but that with only an office phone number, he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d reach him (or even if Carlos was in town). Reece also told me that he’d attempt to contact Butch and/or Doug at Goldthwaite’s Baptist Church. So, I began the search for shelter by following up on Reece’s recommendations. In the meantime, Anita told me she’d check out a possibility with some friends of hers, local nursery owners. This was to take her only ten minutes, and she told me she’d meet me at the Baptist Church.
The Baptist Church was closest, and the appearance of a couple of cars in the church parking lot appeared promising. The church itself was locked up, and despite the side door to their adjacent office being unlocked, my act of stepping in and loudly calling out yielded no responses. Anita had returned to the Baptist Church just as I was ready to move on to the FUMC. She told me that due to the prevalence of rattlesnakes on their grounds, that her nursery owner friends didn’t wish to be liable in the case that I was bit while camping out. Their decision was satisfying to me too. On to the FUMC, I figured.
Anita showed me the way to the FUMC, and as she was familiar with Carlos, she also explained the corner house in which Carlos lived, close to the church. A ten-minute stroll through the quiet & quaint Texas town took me past the little brick firehouse library to a large stone FUM Church. Finding Carlos’ home, I twice knocked on his door before returning to the church block. Nestled downhill and behind the church itself, the church’s office building had half a dozen cars parked out front– a good sign for a freshly arriving pilgrim. I stepped into the office to hear a serious, active meeting in progress in a conference room at the end of the hall. I stepped back out. I didn’t care to interrupt any “serious” meeting to sidetrack their business for my five minutes of story and request. I decided to wait outside the front office door, close my eyes, and patiently await my next course of action. I’d already scoped out the area: the sidewalks and/or grass of the church would make for an excellent camping area. The evening low was to reach 45 F, and there were many spots between the brick walls which would provide shelter from prevailing winds. One option was to simply return after dark and quietly set up camp, which is something I typically only do when arriving after bedtime to a town. (I did this late Saturday night outside Early’s Baptist Church.) As long as I’m not seen, I can’t be told “no.” But, as it’s most respectful to officially seek permission from the pastor/church staff, and as this option has proved itself far more fruitful across the miles for all parties, I remained outside the office’s front doors, eyes still closed, meditatively contemplating what to do next. Daylight hours were quickly ticking away. Intuition signaled that awaiting the meeting’s participants would work out best. Still outside, I suddenly heard the meeting room erupt in laughter, from inside and all the way down the hall.
“Now!”
Showing up unexpectedly, blindly, and perhaps unwelcome to a room full of people in an important meeting could truly bring an undesirable outcome. However, if that room has just erupted in laughter, then you’ll be walking into a room full of happy, enthusiastic smiles.
I opened the front office door just as a powerful laughter-shock followed the initial happy group eruption down the hall. This was getting better by the second. Twenty fast steps later, I stepped inside their conference room door, still outfitted in my traffic vest uniform, and with a ready-to-show, recent Brownwood newspaper article in hand. All eight people in the room looked up at me with the happiest, most enthusiastic eyes imaginable.
My search for a simple sidewalk space of safe shelter resulted in my being given a room at the local Redbud Inn, compliments of the FUMC. Carlos, who was in the meeting, had received Reece’s message, and had been expecting me. Carlos is every bit as cool as Reece described him to be, and he invited me to return today to speak with a local council of ministers about the Walk. This may translate into an after-bedtime arrival to Lometa tonight (20 miles away), or to another night in Goldthwaite, but as outreach of the message of inspiration is the primary aim of this walk, one in which simple logistics consumes the lion’s share of my “free” time, I’m very enthusiastic to meet and speak with the group.
Sixteen hours into it, the good times in Goldthwaite continue…

Mr. & Mrs. Bill & Betty, members of Pastor Reece’s Baptist congregation, hosted me last night on their 500-acre ranch. A “day off” for me, I spent nearly a full 24 hours with them, learning plenty about central Texas farm life, which has kept them both active for over twenty years. Bill was raised a “city kid,” and retired as a school superintendent for a small district just outside Houston. He’s been enjoying the farm life much more. Betty grew up here, near Mullin, and they seem thoroughly satisfied with staying busy here on the farm since “retirement” began. They’re really fun to spend time with. In a variety of ways, I have more in common with them than with many people my age…

After a wonderful Saturday surprise of a Fredericksburg side trip with cousins Mike & Tia Throop + kids, today is the day to continue walking from Brownwood. I awoke just before 6:30 AM outside the Baptist Church in Early, Texas, to a very darkly lit sky. Still inside the nearby gas station, which has a TV giving weather reports, I’m seeing that the most severe systems, hail-dropping thunderstorms, are now passing north of us. We’re seeing light rain and 20mph winds here. It hasn’t rained here in months, and most serious storms occur in the late afternoon or evening hours. So, yes, leaving feels like an intimidating option, given that I’ll be back walking through miles of wide-open spaces, likely without an emergency-saving cell signal.
That said, I feel the strong energy within to at least attempt to move forward, despite how many miles I actually succeed with today.
For the first time this year, my rain gear is on. I’m digging out the waterproof socks too, just in case. The windy road ahead is heavy with uncertainty, yet I’m ready to faithfully walk forward, and make the best of what the universe is about to bring my way…

UPDATE:

20 miles today to Mullin, population 175. I had rain gear on all day. I reached town at 8 PM, found three churches, and saw a woman on a porch smoking. I asked her for pastors’ names/locations, she pointed me to Pastor Reece Bishop of the local Baptist Church.
Reece invited me in immediately (no need for the tent!). We’ve been talking now for hours (CST here). Lots to write about him– what an awesome, open man.