For one man, the insanity of moving from Wyoming to Florida to do mission work has paid off.
By BILL CRUZ JR.
Published June 11, 2004
After a long day doing mission work at the Good Samaritan Mission, I made my way to our three-person swing, comfortably - and strategically - placed in front of our triple-wide mobile home. A welcome sight to my weary bones.
I plopped my tired body in the center cushion, stretching my arms outward, resting. I glanced upward, noticed the missing swing cover and chuckled at the recollection.
The cover was furiously ripped off the swing set by a 70 mph wind in Cheyenne, Wyoming.
Mind you, this was not hurricane season. This was a "normal," daily wind gust in that area. Having lived in Florida for years, the strong howling winds meant only one thing to my wife, Theresa: batten down the hatches and run for cover.
I exchanged my counseling practice in Wyoming for a mission position in Florida. My professional colleagues thought I was crazy.
I smiled. When psychiatrists and psychologists say I'm crazy, I guess I must be.
So be it.
Swinging back and forth, I rid myself of the unpleasant memories of harsh Wyoming weather.
My sleepy eyes find comfort in the deep green grass - a rarity in the hills of Cheyenne.
There, protruding out of the sidewalk is a watermelon vine, the product of a maverick seed that had landed, carelessly, on fertile ground.
This is Balm, Florida: the land of milk and honey.
I survey the horizon, breathe the air and take in the scenery.
Who's crazy?
Was leaving a 6-acre ranch house to live in a triple-wide crazy?
Was giving up a successful practice to feed, clothe and minister to the needy crazy?
Okay, call me crazy.
My insanity has paid off. We have a strong feeling of purpose. We are challenged, daily, to live for others as opposed to living only for ourselves.
I notice the watermelon vine again. It seems to have taken root, stretching in all directions, showing off promises of fruit here and there.
In a way, I guess that's my family. Transplanted here from afar, in a seemingly careless way, by a master gardener.
We are growing, stretching our arms, touching the lives of those that have been placed within our reach, showing signs of a promising tomorrow to those who are hungry, thirsty and hopeless.
