Rhonda’s Ministry on Wheels

A shorter version was originally published in the Summer 2018 issue of GO! Christian Magazine.

Rhonda Blume’s spiritual gift is using her wheels. Her literal GO – is her taxi van. If Rhonda had a motto, I think it would be this compelling statement. “Anybody can help touch one person a day if they’re willing to let God intervene. And that’s all I ask God when I get in my van every morning. God, let me be your vessel.”

Rhonda’s taxi career began just a few short years ago. Her original career was in Human Resources and she was very good at what she did. Then she experienced a major stroke that left her life irrevocably changed.

After recovering – for the most part – from her stroke, she needed to find another job to keep her busy and bring in a little more money to supplement her disability income.

Rhonda is a people person, with a ready smile, infectious laugh, and a true gift of gab, coupled with a heart full of compassion for others. Just spend an hour with her and you’ll understand what I mean. Her every day stories will put you in stitches or bring tears to your eyes.

Rhonda’s taxi driving career started because of her neighbor telling her about a cab company in Dothan that was hiring, and on a lark she applied. After handing over her resume, she was told for taxi driving no resume was needed. The next thing she knew she was behind the wheel and driving all over the city, getting to know some real characters.

Even though Rhonda experienced some trepidation in her new job, such as learning to get the cab fare up front, she remembered something she’d heard before. “The disciples,” Rhonda said, “weren’t the most qualified, but they were the most willing. I don’t consider myself the most qualified.”

Many of Rhonda’s customers love to talk. They tell her their reasons for calling a cab, and then they invariable end up telling her more.   Rhonda has perfected the art of listening to what’s not being said and observing body language. She can detect by the tone of her customer’s voice when something more is going on, so with a little prompting, they end up telling her everything and then God intervenes.

One of her very first customers was a guy who needed to go downtown to pay a fine. Because she wasn’t yet familiar with the streets, Rhonda ended up taking him a longer way than necessary which made him upset. He accused her of doing it on purpose, which made her feel pretty bad. A couple of months later Rhonda had to go back to that same house, afraid it was going to be the same guy. But, lo and behold, out walked a beautiful elderly woman dressed to the nines with almost a halo over her head. “How are you today?” Rhonda asked. “I’m not doing well – I need to go to the women’s medical center.” This dear lady went on to share about her mammogram results. She was scared, so Rhonda gave her one of the Gideon Bibles she always carried with her. After accepting the Bible, Rhonda asked if she could pray with her.   That was the first taxi customer Rhonda prayed with and it really affected her. “I just felt like God’s presence was so there – and that was my first encounter with God in my taxi.”

“It just felt so good I wanted to do it again and again.”

Some weeks later when Rhonda was called to the women’s medical center for a pickup, she spotted the same sweet lady there – and ran over and gave her a hug. When Rhonda asked how she was, she said “It was just an inflamed lymph node.” So they praised the Lord all the way back to her home.

Rhonda once had a passenger heading to the local party store to buy a case of beer. He shared with her about his son dying of an overdose and his wife leaving him. He was ready to kill himself. His wife had found their dead son in the house, and their marriage just fell apart after that. He purchased the case of beer, and when he got out of her taxi Rhonda asked him, “would you like me to pray for you?”

“Honey,” he said, “you can’t pray for me, I’m standing here with a case of beer and that’s so disrespectful to God .”

“God doesn’t care that we’ll be praying over a case of beer, he just wants a relationship with you.”     Rhonda took his hand, and prayed for him. The guy started crying and then left and went into his house.

After driving taxi for a year or so, Rhonda made the decision to become a phlebotomist and get a position at a hospital so she would have health benefits. She attended all the classes, then discovered it wasn’t for her, so she went back to driving taxi, the one thing that made her truly joyful.

One of her very recent stories involved a young girl who had been abandoned by her friends. The five girls were renting a condo together in Destin during Spring Break, and had made their way to Panama City Beach to party. This young girl was the only one in her group who hadn’t been drinking. She got hungry, walked over to Wendy’s to get something to eat, and when she returned, her friends were gone. She found herself stranded without her phone and clothed in nothing but her bikini. She was terrified.

She walked to a local restaurant and the bartender called a taxi for her, specifically requesting a female driver. This young lady didn’t even know exactly where she was staying in Destin, so she and Rhonda had to figure it out. She called her mom from Rhonda’s phone for payment, and finally located the right condo complex. Rhonda called the girl’s mom back to reassure her. “Your daughter is on my watch and she’ll be safe. I’ll not leave her until I know she’s safely in her condo with the door locked.”

And then there’s the story of the young man, so drunk he thought Rhonda was his mother. As she dropped him off at his hotel, he kissed her hand and said, “goodnight, momma!”

And lastly, there was drunk Tyler, with only one dollar in his pocket for a taxi ride costing $18. Rhonda ended up putting him in her taxi van, where he slept until she picked up some other passengers going in the same direction so she wouldn’t be out the money.

Rhonda loves the variety of people she meets, and loves even more the opportunities afforded her to share God’s love to hurting men and women who are desperate for a friendly voice, words of encouragement, and a prayer. Those are the kind of life changing moments Rhonda looks forward to every day.

What is your GO?

A personal transfusion of God’s grace

This article is featured in GO! Christian Magazine’s Summer 2018 issue

“Just three years ago I was a totally different person physically and spiritually than I am now. Though I went to church I wasn’t as close to God as I should have been. A lot of the time I was more interested in myself than God. He was on the back burner.”

In September of 2015, Steve Brown was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia, a very aggressive form of Leukemia. His doctor, with a heavy heart, told him he had 3 to 6 months to live. He had gone to his doctor for a checkup, where they found some irregularities in his blood. Steve’s only symptoms were some fatigue and shortness of breath. His doctor took the time out of his schedule and did a bone marrow biopsy on his lunch break for him.

Steve was a fire fighter for 28 ½ years, retiring from the Fire Department in 2003. He went on to get his teaching certificate, teaching classes in Fire Standards, Hazardous Materials, and Fire Chemistry at Gulf Coast College. A teacher at heart, Steve said “I like turning the lights on in people’s heads.”

Up to the day of his diagnosis, he and his wife Connie were leading full lives. Connie had recently retired from nursing, and they were enjoying their grandkids and doing some traveling. After the news of his impending death, they both marveled at how God had set the stage many years earlier for Steve’s illness. You see, Connie, after becoming a nurse, had obtained her national registration in Chemotherapy and had run the outpatient chemo unit at Bay Medical. They were also debt free, and were part of a local church family and small group who gave them all the emotional and practical support they needed.

Four whirlwind days after hearing those terrifying words, Steve checked into the University of Alabama in Birmingham’s blood disease center. He was there for about six weeks where he had a port placed in his chest, receiving both chemo and other drugs. The treatment made him very sick with horrific headaches and exhaustion. They had to ‘wipe’ his bone marrow. Chemotherapy gets rid of as much cancer cells as possible, but it wipes out the bad cells as well as the good cells, so Steve had no white blood cells left to fight infections.

He went into complete remission for the first time in April of 2016.

In November of that same year, Steve relapsed. “This was the hardest time for me psychologically. I almost resigned myself that I was going to die. I wrestled with God over and over about it until I said, ‘ok, Father, your will be done.’ Then I had peace.”

Both Steve and Connie believe with all their heats that when you give your life to God there’s going to be divine providence in your life.

During his second remission, he was doing so well, they sent him home from the UAB 10 days early. During his sickness, Steve learned early on to read his Bible and pray. “The first time I got chemo I learned how real God is, and the second time around was how steadfast God’s Word is. Sometimes, I would be so sick or in so much pain all I could do was remember bits and pieces of scripture but I would stand on them and His Word saw me through.”

For Steve’s daily devotions he found himself reading a lot in the Old Testament reveling in the descriptions of God’s absolute power. The Holy Spirit encouraged Steve to substitute his own name as he read, making the verses very personal to him. Verse after verse began to jump off the page. “And the Lord said, I have surely seen the disease of Steve in Panama City…” Steve remembers many times waking up in the night just hugging God to himself as he clung to his Bible like a child to his blanket.

At one point Steve told me when he was in such agonizing pain, he was crying out to God, “Don’t take the pain away but help me bear up under it.”

Connie and Steve read a book by Alistair Begg about divine providence, and how we are sheltered under his protection and guidance. “Even though you believe in God there are days that you struggle so I always tried to look for the positive in everything. To keep my trust in God. Through it all there was going to be a good outcome one way or another.”

After the round of chemo, Steve was able to receive a bone marrow transplant, and during this last relapse and remission, Steve and Connie stayed at the American Cancer Society’s Joe Griffin Hope Lodge living among many other cancer patients and their caregivers.

On the day of Steve’s bone marrow transplant, he and Connie read their daily devotional with hopeful hearts. It read, “The Holy Spirit is Christ’s life transfused into you and flowing through you. The Spirit changes us from the inside out and empowers us to live out the call of God.”

They decided to start a Bible study at the Center of Hope.

A lot of the cancer patients in their group were in bad shape. One lady had throat cancer. When she first joined the group she could hardly talk or pray. Then a preacher came who had cancer and Steve asked him to lead the group. The lady with throat cancer was a pianist who played the piano at the Hope Center. During one of their Bible studies, they had a prayer meeting right then and it was awesome.

The will to stay alive was evident in everyone. Some patients were in intense pain, but, as Steve said,
“God has put eternity in our hearts and you could see it there”. Everyone checked on each other, shared their lives and stories, and encouraged each other.

With a smile on his face, Steve said “one thing we learned was that Stage 4 is just a number to God. Nobody knows how much time you have but God. I wouldn’t trade what I went through for anything. Jesus loved me enough to allow me to go through it to break me and make me into a different person. Isn’t that awesome?”

Steve and Connie continue to serve others in their church and small group, encouraging and strengthening hearts weighed down by sickness and pain. They bring the hope of salvation and eternity to all who will listen, praying with them in the power of the Spirit from lives that have been transformed from the inside out.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and shun evil. This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones. (Proverbs 3:5-8)

Bicycle in the trees

This article was originally published in the Lynn Haven Ledger as a human interest story in June, 2018.

The leaves, fluttering in the now cooling breeze with the sun dappling their faces, saw it there once again. But that was not unusual. It showed up there most days for a few minutes. The season changed and the rains started and the leaves, now old and heavy with water, let go of their branches and pirouetted to the ground, adding to the ever increasing layer of nature’s detritus on the woodsy floor, soggy and soft, muffling all sound except for the wind.

The next summer came and still it stood there. The trees didn’t mind. The squirrels and lizards, rabbits and neighborhood cats believing themselves to be dangerous predators, crawled, jumped, and climbed around, over, and through as it stood there patiently waiting for someone to return.

As years passed, the trees grew ever taller and greater in girth like older men who love to eat and hate to exercise. As each new season’s leaves looked on, the tree eventually absorbed much of the abandoned and forgotten bicycle now rusted through. Almost like the trees in Fangorn Forest that sucked the unsuspecting Hobbits inside their trunks to devour them whole. But there was no wizard in Lynn Haven to deliver the bicycle.

It was Wes’ bike. Back in 1986, Jeremy’s parents had built their house on a lot they’d recently purchased, and, as parents are wont to do, also put up a fence to not only keep neighborhood kids from using their backyard as a thoroughfare but to corral Jeremy’s younger brother who loved to wander.   They included a gate so Jeremy’s good friend Wes could meet him in the morning and together they’d ride their bikes to school.   The boys were both in 5th grade at the Lynn Haven Elementary school when they started journeying together.

The small copse of trees bordered the two properties, lending some privacy to each family’s backyard. The boys would meet at the fence in the mornings before school and, together, they would ride their bikes there and back again. Jeremy and Wes were good friends and continued their daily routine until they graduated to high school where it was too far to ride their bikes.

Life moved on for the boys who, 32 years later, have careers and friends and don’t remember much anymore about those daily rides to school. Or the whereabouts of Wes’ long forgotten bicycle.

I tried to interview the bicycle, but it was not in a mood for conversation. I’d love to hear its perspective on what it heard and observed as days turned to months and then years to decades.

I remember about five years ago traveling through Kentucky on Highway 31. We came to a sign that said “Prehistoric Indian Artifacts”, and I remember laughing out loud at such a silly attempt at marketing. Wes’ bicycle isn’t prehistoric, or buried treasure like you might dive for in Panama City Beach, and it doesn’t have any monetary value.

But it’s a pretty interesting thing to see. Two trees, instead of pushing a foreign object out of their way, instead patiently grow around it until the bicycle becomes an integral part of the landscape. It’s hard to see in the shade of the trees.

There’s certainly a life lesson here.

I have Facebook friends from Michigan where I grew up. They regularly complain about the weather, especially in the long and seemingly unending winters. I tell them, “pack up your crap and move down here”. But they always have an excuse. They’re kind of like that bicycle letting time and lack of ambition keep them stuck in a place they don’t really want to be, but the effort to change is greater than their dissatisfaction.

I think Wes’ bicycle would have preferred to have been kept inside a garage out of the elements and over time passed down to the next generation of adventurous children wanting a quicker way to get to where they wanted to go.

But, like I said, the bicycle refused to comment, so I can only speculate.