Fatigued greetings as we press on for the Word of God and the Testimony of Jesus Christ:

Well, it is back to just Jamie and me.  Yesterday at 5:00am, we put Chad on a Greyhound bus in Portsmouth, OH bound for North Carolina.  By God's watchful protection, he arrived safely home last night. The parting was somewhat depressing; his presence was truly a blessing.

After penning the last report, I biked 40 miles to Portsmouth on more traffic/industry infested roads.  A small detour on a couple of side routes added a few miles, but the solitude of the northeastern Kentucky countryside was welcome. I felt like a major leg of the journey had been completed when I crossed the Ohio River into Portsmouth.  Technically, I was up and over the Appalachians, but as I would later discover, southern Ohio has its share of hills.

We had hoped to spend the night in the Greyhound bus station witnessing to folks as they passed through.  However, we discovered that the Portsmouth station was no more than a couple of completely deserted roadside benches.  The building itself was a small one-room edifice and it was closed until Monday.  By God's grace alone, I happened by that station in Charleston, West Virginia and bought Chad’s ticket ahead of time.  I originally did not plan on doing this.  Had this not happened, we would have been stuck in Portsmouth until this morning.  Anyway, we spent the evening there doing laundry, grabbing something to eat, people-watching in a Krogers parking lot (quite entertaining), showering under a water spigot five feet up on a wall of a deserted public restroom down on the river bank (not the most comfortable shower in the world, but a shower nonetheless), and waiting for the bus.  I was actually able to witness for quite some time to a man outside the laundromat.  His wife and kid were inside folding their clothes.  He was very open to the Gospel but disturbed at "churches full of hypocrites."  In the end, his impression of our ministry was so positive that he took a couple of tracts and promised to read them.  His name was Mr. Briggs. In the spirit of Acts 16:31, please pray for his salvation and the salvation of his family.

Around 11:00pm, we went back to the bus station and crashed in the parking lot.  Actually, Jamie went to sleep in the back of the truck while Chad and I stayed up most of the night talking and "standing guard."  The area did not seem to be the safest place in the world.  I think that I might have gotten an hour of sleep at most.  Our late night rap session was special.  Chad revealed how his experiences over the past couple of weeks had changed his life, his outlook, his resolve, and his understanding of evangelism as a way of life.  Moreover, he shared how he believed it had brought him closer in his relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.  Such meaningful words really touched my heart and my spirit.  This was what was most important to Jamie and me where Chad was concerned.  We wanted his participation to metamorph into a nomadic journey that rocked his spiritual world.  Apparently, this was the case; all praise to God for it.

Around 5:00am, the bus rolled up, we put Chad on it, and that was that.  At the same time, a spaced-out young couple got off the and sat around waiting for a taxi.  The pay phone was broken, so we offered the use of our cell phone.  Thus, a bridge was erected for the blessed Gospel.  Pray that God's Word does not return void in that situation.

Immediately thereafter, I decided to start pedaling.  It was still dark, the air was cool, and we had grown weary of the bus station.  Thus, I pedaled about 60 miles to Hillsboro on approximately one hour of sleep—NOT GOOD.  It was laborious, to say the least.  I thought Ohio would bring flat farmland, but instead, I received a first-hand geography lesson.  Southern Ohio is dotted with small hills, rolling piedmont, and enough up and down to make one's head spin.  In some ways, the hills are more difficult than the Appalachian mountains.  At least in the mountains, roads run along valley floors, and grueling uphills bring long, invigorating downhills.  Here, it seems like you go up and up, then a short down (enough to whet the appetite), then up,up, down, up, up, up, down, up, down, up, up, down.  I was told that the flat plains would have to wait until Indiana.  I love the mountains, but I am ready for the serene beauty of flat Midwestern farmlands.  Yet, I am sure that the endless horizon will eventually evolve what I now long for into plains of despair.  Only by God's grace, and his strength made perfect in weakness, will I be able to press on.

Yesterday afternoon, I rolled up into Hillsboro at about 2:00pm.  Needless to say, Jamie and I found a cozy motel room where we could catch up on some sleep.  We crashed all afternoon, woke up long enough to scarf down some dinner, then went back to sleep.  We wanted to attend this local revival going on last night at 7:00pm, but we slept through it.  I really could have kicked myself for this.

Nonetheless, the dawn brought two bodies well rested and eager for more adventure.  It also brought a couple of witnessing opportunities and a nearby library to shoot out this email.  In a few minutes, I plan to start biking for Monroe, Ohio—another 50 miles of rolling piedmont.  Last night, we spoke with Mark Wright's (the man we met on the roadside back in Roanoke, VA) parents.  They are fine Christian folks who will be putting us up for a couple of days. There, we plan to rest, wash the truck (the funk of seemingly endless travel is getting to us), and perhaps do some street preaching in the nearby metropolitan areas of Cincinnati and Columbus.  Then, we press on toward Niles, Michigan where my sister lives, hoping to hook up with her by Labor Day weekend.

Until next time, Godspeed in all your endeavors for the Cross (Matthew 16:24) and the cause of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Jesse & Jamie Boyd
Full Proof Gospel Ministries
Revelation 4:11