a journey of a thousand miles
The Long Walk reached 1,000 miles along the Blue Ridge Parkway last Friday right after a terrible thunderstorm. Glory to God.
Greetings beloved brethren in the name of Jesus the Messiah. An old Chinese proverbs reads: A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is true. Last Friday, at the Rough Butt Bald Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway, our long walk across America hit 1,000 miles. Truly, a journey of a thousand miles does begin with one step. That step was in the ocean sand on March 1st, way out on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Glory to God!
The first step of a 1,000 mile journey was right here back on March 1st.
When US Highway 64 comes into North Carolina in Cherokee County, the first mile-marker reads 604. This is the classic Murphy to Manteo route which dead-ends into NC Highway 12 on the Outer Banks. You don’t truly go across North Carolina unless you have been from Murphy to Manteo, the 604 miles on US 64. Bethany and I drove through Manteo late on February 28th to rendezvous with the Trents and the Gwaltneys at The Sea Foam Motel in Nags Head. At that motel, we had the first of what has now been 588 Gospel encounters along this walk. The next morning, we took that first step in the sand.
Our team hasn’t yet reached Murphy on foot; it’s still about 100 miles away. And it will be even more than that before we fully and finally get out of North Carolina, possibly double the miles of what it would take to drive US 64 the entire length of the state. And you know what? There are no regrets about a single one of these first 1,000 miles; and there will be no retreats from the next thousand, and the thousand after that, and the thousand after that . . . however long it takes to put a foot in the ocean sand once again and to fulfill our commitment before the LORD. Thank you for your prayers and support along the way.
The past two weeks, we have logged a very difficult 118 miles since that glorious sunset at the junction of Worlds Edge and Sugarloaf Mountain Roads just over the Henderson County line. From that point forward, it has been nothing but mountains. The route has been a mix of pavement, dirt road, trail, and even some bushwhacking. A couple of times, I was thankful to have my trusty old machete at my side. There are no straight routes, and there has been a bit of north, south, and even some east just to get west. Nevertheless, God is good. There have been 43 Gospel encounters these past two weeks, and two Bibles have gone into the hands of folks who needed one.
These roadside mirrors portend sharp curves and steep mountain roads.
We inquired ahead, and the rangers at Chimney Rock State Park were very kind to allow us to enter the fee area for free after closing time from a direction tourists never see. We came down the flanks of Sugarloaf Mountain to the Skyline Trail and got to have Chimney Rock all to ourselves for a glorious sunset. Hundreds of stairs eventually got us down the cliffs to a trail where a big bear ran out right in front of Bethany and me. We have actually crossed paths with three bears these past two weeks. From there, we made our way to the road and finally to the closed park gate sometime after 9:00pm. When the rangers on patrol pulled up to let us out, they exclaimed: “You guys made it.” It was a blessing to be able to thank them for helping us along our long journey and to share with them about the LORD.
Tourists rarely, if ever, enter into the park this way, and we got to do so for free, thanks to the kind CRSP rangers.
Bethany bears the cross down the cliffside stairs. That’s Chimney Rock itself in the background. We watched the sunset up there.
The next day, we resumed walking US 64 at the park gate. The very first person we witnessed to replied, “ABSOLUTELY NOT” when I offered him a Gospel tract. It was almost funny: the last time someone refused a Gospel tract along this route was way back in Carteret County on the Atlantic Coast. I made sure this man, apparently from up north, understood that judgment is coming to this wicked nation and that he better repent and get right with the LORD.
Later, that same day, a young man named Jesse came off his front porch and chased down Bethany and Eric as they were walking on a very rural road. He exclaimed, “I have never ever seen people walking with a cross and an upside-down American flag. What is this all about?” It was obvious that Jesse had some real problems and life struggles, but he was humble and listened and gladly received a Bible.
Jesse was glad to receive a copy of God’s Word.
As it got dark, I took the last leg of the day and ended up taking a shortcut on an obscure dirt road. This was orchestrated of the LORD, for on that short stretch of gravel, I had an encounter with a mother and her grown son as well as with three Hispanic workers pulled over to sleep for the night in their truck. I shared with them in Spanish, and one of the three replied (if my understanding was correct): “You are the first American who has ever spoken to me about the things of God in my own language. Thank you.” They all took Spanish tracts and a Spanish John-Romans. I praised God for that gravel shortcut.
You never know who or what you will find on an obscure dirt road at sunset. Five people were confronted with the Gospel on this mile-long gravel track in Henderson County.
As our ministry aims to testify of repentance toward God and faith in Jesus the Messiah FIRST to the Jewish people AND ALSO to the Gentiles, our eyes are always open and searching for lost sheep from the House of Israel. Way back when the walk started, the same night Bethany and I rendezvoused with the Trents and the Gwaltneys in Nags Head, Eric stopped at a gas station in Eastern North Carolina and was able to witness to a Jewish lady working behind the counter. It wasn’t until last week that we had another such encounter, and the backstory is interesting.
For the first time on this long journey, we slogged into a dead-end and literally had to turn around to walk back out. By studying maps and aerial photos, I thought we could cut down an old tram cut on the side of Mount Pisgah to some dirt roads below. So, we hiked up Mt. Pisgah on a steep trail from the Blue Ridge Parkway only to run into some tower workers who advised that this was very dangerous and nigh impossible. When we asked if we could hop the tram down that was bringing up supplies, they informed that this was illegal, even for them to ride it. We had no choice but to turn around, tp slog back down that mountain, and to just deal with the extra miles that would thus be involved to get to our destination. We didn’t leave, however, before speaking with these guys about the things of the LORD. Dustin, in particular, was very open and received some discipleship materials from our hands. He already had a Bible. It was a divine appointment that dissolved any regrets about the turn-around. Back down at the parking area at the bottom of the mountain, as I prepared to walk some of those extra miles, a car pulled up with a family from Russia inside. They asked for some directions, and I was able to share with them exactly what I was doing and to speak about Jesus the Messiah being the only hope for America and the world. I’m almost positive these folks were Jewish, though I never got the opportunity to ask them. As they pulled away with a Gospel tract and the directions they were seeking, the man called to me: “You are a very nice man. Thank you.” We had prayed that morning that the LORD would put a lost sheep from the House of Israel into our path. I believe He answered that specific prayer with a Jewish family along a path we never intended to take. Proverbs 16:9 came to mind: “A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.” Please pray with us that God would put more Jewish folks into our path. Like Paul the Apostle, our “heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved” (Romans 10:1).
At the Mt, Pisgah radio tower, Dustin was very kind when he informed us that we had ventured into a No Tresspassing zone. He then was very open to hear about the things of the Lord. After meeting him and climbing back down the mountain, we ran into what I believe was a Jewish family from Russia.
Having to turn around actually proved a blessing as it opened up a new route possibility that hadn’t been feasible if we had come down the side of Mt. Pisgah along that tram cut. The next day, Eric and Bethany did a brutal 18-mile leg from the Shining Creek Trailhead on US 276 up into the Shining Rock Wilderness. They had a good witnessing encounter on the summit of Cold Mountain, one of NC’s most remote 6,000-ft peaks, as well as a few others on their way to the Sam Knob parking area where we rendezvoused that night. I spent that same day route-finding and had a very interesting encounter myself along the Mountains-to-Sea Trail. It was one of the most in-depth and rewarding conversations of the entire walking journey. I stood aside the trail on the flanks of Rough Butt Bald in the fog for about an hour sharing with a kind couple from Sylva. They asked a lot of questions, particularly about how one hears from the LORD and how I knew that He wanted me to walk across America. These folks admitted to having been agnostic but had come to a place where they could no longer deny the God who made them. I kept going back to the Scriptures and affirming that they are true and our only hope in these trying times. When we finally parted ways, these folks were happy to take a Gospel tract and a good book by Mark Cahill entitled Paradise. Mark is very kind to provide us with copies of his books for distribution along The Long Walk. I especially love giving out copies of The Watchmen to fellow believers. Anyway, please pray for Keith and Pam. It was definitely a divine appointment.
Bethany and Eric venture up into the Shining Rock Wilderness.
Meanwhile, I did some route-finding and met Keith and Pam along the Mountains-to-Sea Trail.
There were other encounters, and I could go on and on. At a Blue Ridge Parkway overlook, I passed by a woman who was crying alone in her car. I radioed Bethany and asked her to inquire. As it turned out, Ellen was a psyschiatrist having a breakdown of her own. Bethany offered to pray with her and did. She was very grateful and took a Gospel tract while affirming: “I am always having to ask others how they are doing, and you are the first person in a long time who has cared enough to ask me how I am doing. Thank you. The Lord sent you today.” There was also Nathan, Christine, Landon, Faith & David, Tom in the Bat Cave Gift Shop, a schoolteacher from Greensboro, Allen, Chris from Illinois, Ryan and his family from Florida, and Tom from Pittsburgh who drove up and stopped as I was walking along Terrys Gap Road to simply ask “What’s the word?” I spoke The Word, and he rejoiced, so encouraged to see this so far from his home in Pennsylvania. Praise the Lord, I love to encourage fellow believers unto a more serious walk with Christ. Drew was a sad encounter. He was very kind and humble, but his faith, he admitted, was in humanity and technology. These things, he said, would eventually fix our problems. At least he took a Gospel tract.
There was some hostility along the way, and we shouldn’t be surprised. Lots of folks flipped us off and gnashed their teeth as we walked up a very busy US Hwy 25 to intersect the Blue Ridge Parkway just outside of Asheville. I struggled with fear that day, but the LORD strengthened me. Earlier this week, a group of older liberals passed me on the trail, and I politely stepped out of the way. One of the men in the group rudely asked: “Are you Noah?” As I attempted to discern his meaning, he spouted, “Well, I thought your name was Noah.” I have no idea what that was all about, but seeing an opportunity, I responded, “Well, my name is not Noah, but I am preaching the same message to this wicked country that Noah once preached to the wicked world in his day.” He rudely demanded that I further explain, and I did: “America is in big trouble. Judgment is coming. And you all need to repent and get right with the LORD.” Needless to say, they got pretty angry, but I kept exhorting them to repent. A woman in the group put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Honey we need that good government we have in Washington right now. And, you are wrong to say we are chopping up our little babies in America. That just isn’t true.” Another of the men retorted, “You are just stupid!” As they started down trail mocking and laughing, I said, “Let me tell you what is really stupid. It’s really stupid to put a diaper on your face and hide in fear from a virus with a 99% survival rate while you have NO FEAR of the One who holds the galaxies in His hands. That is mighty stupid.” I walked on, up and over the summit of Ferrin Knob, rejoicing that I had been counted worthy to suffer reproach for the Truth.
I left this Gospel tract on the trail not long before I met that group of mocking liberals. Maybe they later found it.
The LORD has been teaching me some things these past two weeks along mountain paths. Nahum the Prophet speaks of God as a furious storm who has His way in the whirlwind and who will not at all acquit the wicked. Yet, He is also the shelter from the storm, a stronghold in the day of trouble for those who put their trust in Him. God literally showed me this as He had his way in a bad thunderstorm up on the Blue Ridge Parkway last Friday. I was forced to flee into the Balsam forest on the flank of Spot Knob, and the LORD sheltered me under the canopy of the trees in a spot that was about 3x3 feet. The storm raged all around, but that spot of shelter on Spot Knob gave refuge. I stood there for an hour while the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed, but I enjoyed sweet fellowship with my Lord who proved true shelter from the storm. This photo was taken early in that storm. By the time I walked out of there, that path at the foot of the tree where I left the cross was a sea of standing water. But, I stayed dry. I’ll never forget that spot of shelter on Spot Knob, and the time I had there with the Rock of my salvation.
Prior to walking into the Greater Asheville area, a very spiritually dark place, I was struggling with fear and dread, and the LORD gave me Isaiah 8:13-14:
Sanctify the LORD of hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and let him be your dread. And he shall be for a sanctuary; but for a stone of stumbling and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.
I was convicted to let God alone be my fear and my dread, not wicked men nor their foolishness. He, then, would prove a sanctuary. As I thought upon these things I asked the LORD to fulfill His word in my life, to show me that He truly is a “rewarder of them that diligently seek him” (Hebrews 11:6) and to strengthen me by this promise before I had to walk into the spiritual darkness of Asheville. Not long thereafter, a man in his truck stopped in traffic to ask me where I was walking. I told him, “All the way to California.” He then stuck his hand out the window and handed me a $10 bill. He said, “I saw you on another road earlier, and the LORD told me to go find you and to give you this as an encouragement.” As he drove away, I laughed like Sarah: not in doubt as she did in Genesis 18:12, but for joy as she did in Genesis 21:6. The Lord wasn’t finished. A few miles down the road, another vehicle pulled up, this time with a mother and her teenage son inside. Immediately, I recognized the teenage boy as the same kid to whom I had given a Gospel tract that morning while he was out riding his bicycle. The Lord had laid it upon Grayson’s heart to give me $20 out of his own pocket, and he had asked his mom to take him out in the car to try and find me. They did. I was humbled and blessed beyond measure. And, at that moment, I decided that God alone would be my fear and my dread as we walked into the oppression of Asheville. He, in turn, would surely be our sanctuary. He was. Let the LORD alone be your fear and your dread, my friends, and He will prove a sanctuary and a refuge when judgment rains down on everything around us. He IS faithful to reward those who diligently seek Him.
Well, I better wrap things up. Lord willing, we will head out early in the morning for another week of walking and preaching. We aim to head south from the Blue Ridge Parkway toward Highlands and Franklin and then due west toward Murphy and the far west corner of North Carolina. From there, only God knows. Suffice it to say that we will be in the mountains for a good while. Please pray for abundant opportunity to preach Christ to both Jew and Gentile. I do want to thank Pastor Kris Estep of Barberville Baptist Church and his sweet family for housing us last week near Canton. What a blessing it was to have a refuge at night after long, sometimes wet days on trail and pavement. His precious children made that nice little sign pictured above that commemorated 1,000 miles. It was also a blessing to have Pastor Brandon Gwaltney of Pleasant View Baptist Church in Harmony, NC join us for a long day as he has several times along this journey. I so appreciate the faithful pastors of the select few faithful local churches who support this ministry. Praise God for them.
Hanging out with the Estep Children in Canton. Thanks to Piper & Henry for making me 1,000-mile signs that I will treasure forever.
I love Brother Brandon’s fellowship. Even on oxygen for a lung condition, he can keep up with the best of us on a trail and always has an uplifting spirit that rubs off on anyone around him.
Here are some snapshots that add perspective to the arduous route of the past two weeks. It’s hard to believe we walked over all this stuff.
I took this photo last Monday. The previous week, we had been walking on the other side of Bearwallow Mountain (circled).
I met the angry liberals going up Ferrin Knob (circled in foreground), and we met Dustin on the summit of Mt. Pisgah that afternoon (circled in background). That’s a long day’s walk.
This was the route from the Blue Ridge Parkway up and over the summit of Mt. Hardy, one of NC’s highest peaks.
This was Bethany and Eric’s long 18-mile day along the crest of the Balsams while I was out route-finding and meeting Keith & Pam. That really is a brutal stretch.
If this walk across America and these testimonies are, or have been a blessing to you, please consider financially supporting our ministry to the Jew first and also to the Gentile. There are needs for travel expenses, and anything you can give is a blessing that will be used faithfully and with account. All contributions are tax-deductible, and donating online is very easy. Thank you in Jesus’ name.
A journey of a thousand miles truly does begin with one step.
1,000 Miles & Counting,
Jesse Boyd