Tag: Faith

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A Thick Bible of Trucking Stories #2 ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡⁱᶻᵉᵈ

Rocky Mountain Slide

I’ve had some close calls on this road I call life. I’ve had some serious help from above too. I don’t take any of it for granted. But I’m here to tell it.

In 2oO6, I moved from Atlanta to Dallas. I took a driving job with a tiny little company called Berry & Sexton Transportation.

Or as I like to say, BS Trucking 🐮💩.

The company was brand new. They had one truck at the time, leased on to FedEx Ground, and I was their first employee. I was hired on as a driver trainer, something I had never done before in my career.

I was going to be running teams, another first for me, and my very first partner was a young black guy my age named Marcus. He was fresh out of CDL school with zero experience, and I had zero experience training. So we had something in common.

Up until then, I’d never run out west, and I was really looking forward to it. FedEx Ground had a lot of westbound freight coming out of the Dallas hub. Oh, and also we’d be pulling double trailers, or what we in the biz call pups. Another first for me. Just add it to the list. No problem.

I was a bit nervous, honestly. There was just so much going on. It was almost wintertime, and I was looking at unfamiliar roads and cities, all while having a student driver I was responsible for. I was feeling the weight of the situation, but I was ready.

I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in Marcus. He was so chill and laid back, just like me. He was a good driver. He learned fast. He was smart. It was so rewarding for me teaching him. We had no issues getting along or living in the truck together. Over time, we became the best of friends, and we often would hang out on our days off.

But no matter how good of a driver you are, you don’t learn it all overnight. It takes years. A few weeks into this new adventure, we were about to encounter our first major problem and learn some things together.

We were in Wyoming. I had been driving all day. I was ready to get some sleep. We were headed to Las Cruces, New Mexico. The weather hadn’t been too bad. I mean, it was snowing at times, but for the most part, the roads were doable. However, worse conditions were expected. So I handed the reins over to Marcus and went over what to do if the weather got worse.

It was a straight shot for him. Just stay on I-25 south. I told him to holler if he needed me.

Do you want to know what tangible faith looks like? It’s climbing back into the bunk, zipping up the big leather curtains, closing your eyes, and trusting a beginner with an 80-foot, 80,000-pound rig on winter roads out west.

So the night rolled on. I was asleep. Until I wasn’t.

Without warning, I was thrown violently all over the inside of the bunk. It was pitch black dark. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could feel my body slamming against the walls of the truck repeatedly.

Then I went airborne one last time and landed face down on the floor.

Still in absolute darkness.

And now I could feel us still sliding. My first thought was that he had fallen asleep at the wheel. So I yelled out, “MARCUS, WAKE UP!!!”

He replied immediately, “I AM AWAKE, B!”

Then we came to an abrupt stop.

I pried myself off the floor and stood up. I fumbled for the zipper on the curtain. I was frightened by what I was about to see. Was it a bad accident? Were others involved? Was anyone hurt, or worse? I didn’t know.

As I separated the curtains, my eyes adjusted to the light, and I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. The windshield wipers were moving back and forth, and they were totally encrusted. It wasn’t snow. It was ice. They looked like two white Wiffle Ball bats swinging at the heavy snowfall and striking out.

I rolled down the passenger’s side window and felt the back of the side-view mirror. It was iced over. That’s a little trick drivers will do to gauge the road. If there’s ice building up on them, then that usually means there’s ice on the road as well.

I stepped out of the truck into two feet of snow. We were sitting upright, on all our wheels, in the middle of a large median between the northbound and southbound lanes of I-25, facing the opposite direction from the one we had been traveling. lol. There were no other vehicles around. Everyone else knew better.

Turns out, we had just come down Raton Pass, out of Colorado into northern New Mexico. We basically slid down the entire thing. It’s part of the southern Rocky Mountains, with about a five-mile stretch of curvy downhill and a 6% grade, dropping from around 7,800 feet in elevation.

Tractor-trailers have to be gentle coming down big mountain grades. I’m sure you’ve probably seen the runaway truck ramps along the highways. Because of their weight when loaded, they can pick up a lot of speed. And if you use your brakes too much, they’ll heat up and fade, meaning they won’t stop you. They can even catch fire. So you have to start the descent at a manageable speed and be in the proper gear. And that’s under good conditions. You add snow and ice to the equation, and it’s a whole nother ballgame. Many times, that means pulling over and chaining up before attempting the mountain, whether you’re going up or coming down.

I got behind the wheel, and got us pointed back in the right direction. I somehow managed to drive out of the median that night, through the deep snow, without even chaining up or calling a tow truck.

I took over and drove the rest of the way to Las Cruces. I figured Marcus probably needed a break and maybe had to change his shorts. 😎

He did a remarkable job that night driving. Handling the situation. I still don’t know how he kept us from totally losing control and flipping over, or worse, running off the side of the mountain.

Oh, and Marcus was fine. I checked on him first. I just didn’t mention that part. 😁

It’s my fault for not knowing that road better. But it’s all good. Live. Learn.

I ended up becoming very familiar with all the roads out west. And Marcus? He became an excellent truck driver. A professional one.

We survived.

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“Break 19, Break 19, how ’bout ya northbound? You got the Fishman here. Yall get off that hammer. Be easy going up the pass. It’s nasty… If ya can, just go park it and get ya a nap and try again with the sun, son. I’m out an’ done. Yall have a goodun’ an’ keep er’ tween the guardrails.”

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the center of the highway at the bottom of Raton in the video is where we ended up.

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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The Only Time I Went to Jail ᵃᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵛᶦᵈᵉᵒײ

I’ve only been to jail once in my life, and it wasn’t fun. But I’m glad I don’t have more experiences to write about on this subject 😁

It was the summer of 95′, I believe. I was 22.

I was hanging out at my good friend’s house that night. It was probably 2am, and we were sitting around chillin, enjoying the weekend. We had a few people over, and I was playing guitar, singing, and entertaining everyone.

Then my friend asked me if I would drive him over to another one of our friends’ houses. I forget why exactly, but he needed to get something from him or something like that. I’m not sure.

So I said that I would, but told him not to take any drugs with him because I didn’t want to be ridin’ around at 2 o’clock in the morning with drugs in my car.

He assured me that he would leave all the drugs at home lol 🏡

So we headed out. I had an old 1981 white Camaro at the time. We made it to our destination and hung out for about 30 minutes. Then we left and started making our way back home.

We were about halfway when the blue lights exploded behind me, almost blinding me as they reflected in all my mirrors.

So I pulled over, and the officer approached my window. He told me that he pulled me over because one of my taillights was really dim. He asked me a few questions, and I answered them. I was cool, calm, and relaxed. I’m not worried at all about anything.

Then he walks around to the passenger side and starts talking to my buddy. He was really nervous and kind of stuttering, not giving very good answers. But I didn’t think much of it because that’s just how he was a lot of the time.

So then the officer comes back to my side and says to me, “Your friend is acting very nervous. Do I have your permission to search the vehicle?”

And then I say, “This is just how he is sometimes, officer. Sure, you can search. We have nothing to hide.”

So he tells us to step around and stand at the back of my car while he does his thing. And we did.

So the cop 👮‍♂️ is on the passenger side looking around when suddenly he screams at us, “PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE BACK OF THE VEHICLE AND DON’T MOVE!!!”

And I’m just like 🙆🤦 Then I say to my friend, “WTH, man?! I told you not to bring anything!”

He said nothing.

So it turns out he had a little baggie of drugs on him that he threw onto my floorboard because he got scared.

Then the officer cuffs us both, puts us in the back of his unit, and hauls our butts off to the county jail.

I got thrown into a small holding cell, just me and this weird dude.

The guy wore grooves on the floor just walking back and forth for hours, never speaking or even acknowledging my presence.

He had what looked like an old Polaroid photo in his hand. It had been ripped open, and I kid you not, he was licking whatever substance was inside it. He just kept walking back and forth, non-stop for hours, licking on that thing.

It was insane. I was just like, “Where am I right now?”

Finally, they came and got me, booked me, and put me in an open pod with maybe 40 other guys.

I was exhausted and ended up sleeping. The next day, I woke up, and it really hit me. I was in jail. 🫥

It was supper time now, and they brought us some food. So I sat down to try and eat. It was garbage. I just couldn’t do it.

Then this older guy sat beside me and tried to start up a conversation. He looked to be in his 40s, maybe. He asked me what I was in for, so I didn’t go into detail, but I told him a little bit about what happened.

Then I asked him the same thing. What did he do to get himself in such a wonderful place?

He proceeds to tell me this story about how his girlfriend’s parents don’t like him and don’t want the two of them together, so they’re trying to cause trouble for him.

That didn’t really add up for me, so I asked some more questions. How come they don’t want yall together?

Then he says, “They think she’s too young for a relationship.”

So I asked how old she was?

Then he says, “Well, she’s 12, but I love her, and they can’t stop us from being together.”

At this point, I just stood up, grabbed my tray, and walked away. I found somewhere else to sit.

I spent 3 days in there, giving serious thought to my life. Then my parents came and bailed me out.

I got myself an attorney and went to see him at his office. I told him everything that happened. He said to give him a week or two, and he would be in touch.

A few weeks went by, and my phone rang. It was him. He said he had some great news. He’d gone to see my friend in jail and gotten him to sign a statement saying that everything was his and that I had no knowledge of it.

That was such a great thing for my friend to do for me, and I’ll always appreciate him for that.

My charges were eventually dismissed, and he ended up getting charged with other things as well and stayed in jail for a while.

He and I are still friends today. He’s a Christian now and active in his church. He turned his life around, just like me.

Turns out that night in jail wasn’t the end of either one of our stories.

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© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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It’s Beautiful Here

A story of my Grandmama and a song

I’ve been thinking a lot about my Grandmama lately. Today is her birthday. She would have been 93.

She passed away suddenly in the spring of 2oO4, and it was really hard on my family, especially my mama, because in those last few years, the two of them had a rocky mother-daughter relationship. And they just wasted the time.

They didn’t always see eye to eye or treat each other the way they should, and my mama was holding onto things that she had a hard time letting go of.

I’ve been flooded with memories of her today. I was her first grand baby, and she thought the world of me. She was always around as I was growing up. She helped raise me.

I even lived with her at times in the early 80s because my mama was really sick and in and out of the hospital for a few years, having major surgeries and almost losing her life several times.

Then later she moved in with us, so throughout my life I spent a lot of time with her. Just memory after memory.

I remember once, I had a breakup with my girlfriend at the time, and she started dating this new guy. Well, he and two of his friends decided to show up at my house, and they were looking for a fight.

So, I walked out in the driveway and faced all three of them by myself.

Well, I thought I was by myself until I turned around and saw my Grandmama standing there in her house coat with a broom in her hand, ready to swing it. Then she says, “I GOT YOUR BACK SON!”

I couldn’t believe it.

I was like, “Grandmama, put that broom down and go in the house before you hurt yourself, I got this.” Haha.

But she didn’t. She stayed right there with me as I proceeded to whip all three of them. 😁😎

She loved for me to sit around and play my guitar and sing for her. She would make requests. Like “Take Me Home Country Roads” by John Denver and a few others.

She would clap her hands and tap her feet, and sing along. She was an old school country girl, and she had a strong Southern drawl. She sounded like Dolly Parton when she talked. 😁

She was a special lady to me. She was a Christian, but she wasn’t always.

The story I’m about to tell… you can decide on your own what to think or feel about it. I’m just going to tell you what I witnessed that day.

It was the day after she died. I was at my mama’s house. And my mama was in very bad shape inside. The guilt she was feeling was just too much for anyone to handle, and I had never seen her this way.

It was as if she died too.

She so wished that she had of done things differently. Instead of always arguing. She wished she would have said “I love you” to her mother because she did. But now she couldn’t.

Ever.

Now, suddenly, everything that was keeping her from this when her mother was alive meant absolutely nothing.

My mama cried and cried and cried non-stop.

She decided to go out and sit in her garden for a while and be alone.

She had been out there for maybe an hour. I was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking out the window. I could see her off in the distance sitting on a little bench wearing her big-brimmed sunhat, surrounded by her flowers.

When suddenly, she jumps up and starts running toward the house.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I immediately think the worst. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her run. So I thought something was bad wrong.

As she approached the back door, I hurried to meet her as I could hear her crying out my name.

She bursts through the door out of breath and in tears. But not the kind I thought. These were tears of joy.

She’s trying to talk, but she can’t really, and I’m like, “What happened? Are you okay? What is going on?”

Then she cries out and says, “I JUST TALKED TO MY MAMA!!! I JUST TALKED TO MY MAMA!!!”

Then she says, “YOU CAN SMELL HER ALL OVER ME!!! SMELL ME!!! SMELL!!!”

Then I began to smell my Grandmama’s perfume, and her scent spread through and filled the entire kitchen.

It was one of those powerful moments in life that you dont forget.

Come to find out, she says that God allowed her to have this moment with her mother.

She says they spoke. That she heard her voice. They both apologized and said, “I love you.”

And she said my Grandmama told her, “Jackie baby, I know you love me.”

Then she said, My Grandmama said, “It’s beautiful here.”

From that day on, my mama was okay. She put it all behind her and was able to find peace.

She got another chance.

She was able to say one last time, after the fact, what she couldn’t say in life.

And I think you know the moral of this one.

Happy Birthday Grandmama.

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A John Denver Cover – Take Me Home Country Roads

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She And I In 1973
Her And My Nephew in 2oO0

© 2026 bryanforchrist. all rights reserved.

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🎙️Sunday Songs From the Bathroom #29

🎧 Phillips, Craig and Dean & Hillsong covers

Today has been tough for me musically and spiritually. It’s like I just can’t play or sing. I’m not flowing. Everything feels hard. That’s not normal for me.

I wasn’t going to post anything, but some on my other platforms look forward to my Sunday post. I prayed about it, and I need to get over myself.

Because it’s not about me and my best. It’s about Him.

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Mercy Came Running
Forever Reign

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“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9 KJV

featured image by EL GRECO

© 2026 bryanforchrist. all rights reserved.

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🎙️Sunday Songs From the Bathroom #22

🎧 Matthew West & Jesus Culture Covers

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There’s absolutely nothing I can do right now but look up and just sing.

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Out of My Hands
Your Love Never Fails

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I look up to the mountains—does my help come from there? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth!  — Psalm 121:1–2 NLT

© 2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

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I Shall Not Be Moved ¹⁴³

Possibly A Poema

You who want me dead
and often try instead.

Do you realize it’s been twenty years now?

off and on?

Have you ever thought that it’s just not time?

Time for me to go?

After all your tries I still pass by.

Seriously, just think.

Think of all the times.

How many is it now?

Eight? Nine?

Times that you’ve tried and I’m still here.

You sure make for great storytelling.

You must not know the things I know?

The ONE who’s by my side.

I dreamt all this in the nineties.

Before you ever knew me,

I knew you.

And…

In my dream

You were just a small white horse.

The Great Green Eyed Lion behind me,

HE saw you.

Saw that you wished me harm.

Then out from behind me HE came.

Came for you.

HE was angry with you
but delighted in me.

HE swallowed you whole.

Before I ever knew you,

you were already defeated.

Like pharaoh’s army,
The depths will cover you.

I’d turn back now.

This is a pivotal spot for you.

These things I know.

It’s not wishful thinking.

HE told me.

For me not to worry.

And I don’t.

And you don’t have to worry about me.

Yet you do.

The time has finally come.

For life to start again.

My life that is.

Yours too.

If you so choose.

Therefore…

These things I hope you’ll heed.

These things I know you’ll read.

And just like a tree,

planted by the waters

I shall not be moved.

An Old African-American Spiritual Folk Song From The South

Jeremiah 17:7-8 • Psalm 1:3
Psalm 16:8 • Psalm 62:6

featured image by Signeflinkart by Deviantart

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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🎙️Sunday Songs From the Bathroom #20 My Crossroads Story

🎧 Covers From Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Tesla

I share some of my blog posts on my other platforms and with people I’m connected to in ministry. I’ve had quite a few people ask me about what happened to me with the crossroads thing, so I decided to share the story in an audio recording.

I also added 2 songs I just recorded, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” and “Love Song.” I hope yall enjoy them, and thank you for your continued support.

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My Crossroads Story
Will The Circle Be Unbroken
Love Song

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© 2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

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The Crossroads

If you could relive one day from your past, which day would it be and why?

I don’t even have to think about it. I never would have gone down to the crossroads.

Let me tell you this. It’s not some old, crazy myth or legend, although it sounds like one. It’s the straight-up truth, and for the past 20 years, my life has been the stuff of movies because of that one unforgettable, unbelievably stupid thing I did.

It’s also the main reason I blog today. I wanted a place to gather the stories from my life, so that in a few years, when I’m ready to write my memoir, it will be easier to paint the picture.

Oh, how I wish I could go back to that night. I would have kept my mouth shut and just gone to sleep.

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© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson

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🎙️Songs From the Bathroom #18 ~ God and Guitar

🎧 Hank Williams Jr. and Bad Company Covers

My first memories as a child are of sitting beside my great grandmother as she played the piano and sang Christian songs. I’ve been singing ever since.

But I never planned on being a musician. It was more like it chose me and I could take my heart there.

It’s such a great thing to have people to talk to. Friends. Family. A counselor. A therapist. Your pastor. Someone. Anyone.

I didn’t have any of that as a young Gen X teenager.

I just had a dead best friend and God and Guitar.

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Blues Man
Shooting Star

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I’m just a singer, a natural-born guitar ringer
Kind of a clinger to sad old songs
I’m not a walk-behinder, I’m a new note finder
But my name’s a reminder of a blues man that’s already gone

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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🎙️Sunday Songs From the Bathroom #17

Covers From Tenth Avenue North

My dad once told me a story years ago about a strange man who approached him in a truck stop parking lot.

He said he was getting out of his truck and suddenly there was a man right there in front of him. He thought the guy was about to rob him, but instead, he gets right up in my dad’s face and says, “You’re going to see a miracle in your family.”

Then the guy turns and walks away.

My dad said that he looked away for a second and then looked back up, and the guy was gone. Just disappeared.

My dad thinks it was an angel, and he thinks the miracle is meant for me.

I could really use one right now.

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No Man Is an Island
I Have This Hope

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Painting by Adrian Litman

© 2026 bryanforchrist. all rights reserved.

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