EVACUATION

Rolling sea of flames have covered several counties in Southern California causing deaths and leaving behind millions of dollars worth of destruction. Many are still not contained. We should care and be concerned about all involved including the brave individuals who fight these infernos, and I’ve only known a few individuals who were threatened by these hazards. Dad’s sister-in-law’s sister lives in an area of San Diego County that has had many fires. Was relieved when Janice was out of danger during the fire on Catalina Island earlier this year. Fortunately, never had to experience an immediate family member in the threshold of losing it all. If it were 1973, my brother would have been part of Sunday’s mass exodus of the Pepperdine campus in Malibu. Even though I’ve seen the fallen ash and smelled the smoke from the Cedar wildfire in San Diego County in 2003, to write about such a devastation would be more telling if I were to experience the imminent danger first hand.

On Monday I came home from work with a headache, bad enough to diminish the eyesight and nauseate the stomach. The pain seemed to intensify after receiving a call from Jonathan.

It looked like a third-world country--sirens piercing the air, seeing the orange glow over the hill, embers flying through the sky and igniting wherever landing, causing people from several surrounding blocks to abandon their homes and prized possessions. Jonathan had a flat tire and packed his car but would not leave until it was absolutely necessary. Urged my son not to wait too long--he could not be replaced, but Jonathan said he would be fine and would keep me posted. His reassurances fell on deaf ears, and I constantly picked up the phone to check on him. For hours sat on pins and needles, full of trepidation, anxiety and helplessness--I could not go to the rescue.

Everything seemed fine after Jonathan called four hours later. He had unpacked his car, and I could finally relax; however, an hour later the phone rang--Jonathan had evacuated because the back of the apartment complex was on fire. He had aired his tire and was on his way to a friend’s house in Oceanside. The dread returned until he had safely arrived at his destination.

Writing my Godstops (those bedtime meditations from the Believing God series) that night was difficult. However, I was fortunate not to have been threatened by any of the fires. Also realized that although Jonathan was in harm’s way, he was now safe and the experience could actually produce some life-altering changes, possibly for the better.

Jonathan was one of the lucky ones who was able to return home.

BELIEVING GOD

While growing up listened to the sermons, tried to walk the straight and narrow (might have been considered a prude), and acknowledged the basic truths--the Trinity (although don’t understand it), the five steps to inherit eternal life, Jesus was raised from the dead to take away our sins, the ten commandments, the greatest commandment, and prayer. I’m not exactly that goody-goody girl now and often experienced those peak and valley stages but found myself down in the valley the majority of the time.

In all honesty, my life has lacked spiritual meaning. Seem to just go through the motions. Prayer time is sporadic. Bible reading is sporadic. Bible study is nonexistent. Seem to have taken most everything for granted.

Two weeks ago a nighttime ladies’ class was started at Long Beach. Believing God is one of numerous Bible studies and books penned by Beth Moore. The study analyzes what it means to believe God, not just believe in Him. Beth is a Christian speaker, author, and ministry leader who founded Living Proof Ministries to help teach women how to love and live on God’s Word. She has spoken and held conferences world wide.

A significant amount of study time (homework) is involved including journaling and at the end of each day’s lesson is bedtime meditations called Godstops--“any means by which God seems to go out of his way during your day to make Himself known to you.” Liked one statement in particular--“The more we learn to recognize and appreciate His intervention and revelations, the more we are likely to receive them.” Have never thought about that before, but it does make sense. Also, there are five pledges of faith we are to memorize backwards and forwards. These declarations will be thoroughly explored to help explain what we are believing. The five pledges are:
1. God is who He says He is.
2. God can do what He says He can do.
3. I am who God says I am.
4. I can do all things through Christ.
5. God’s Word is alive and active in me.

Just after two weeks, I’ve already noticed significant changes in myself and realized that I only believed in God; didn’t really believe Him. Scripture is full of God’s truths and promises, but lived much of life not believing that God was in my corner and felt bitterly angry and resentful for my circumstances, especially after Carl died. Now I do believe that God is there for me for the long haul, and He always wants what is best for me, even though I may not understand it. Some days I have to struggle to see those Godstops and a few of them may be considered downright silly, but, hey, it is making me stop taking things for granted and do feel closer to Him than ever before. Thinking about Him more often would tend to do that.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. Life isn’t all roses now. There are still disappointments, heartaches, frustrations, tears… but I’m trying to keep my attitude focused on the positive and allow God to guide my path. Unfortunately, have to constantly remind myself of that decision--habits are hard to break. For me this study came just at the right time (what a coincidence, huh?), but I must have faith in this concept of believing God because it was sure stressed to the max when Jonathan called the other day. Told him to pray and lean on God--it will make a difference and it just wasn’t lip service. I actually believed what I was telling my son. There are a lot of challenges to face, but I’ve already seen good things happening in these past two weeks.

Jonathan is very troubled, and I solicit your prayers on his behalf as well as my own to be the mother I should have been long ago.

THE BIG TRANSITION

Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster for many of us at Long Beach. The time had finally arrived. A time we knew was coming several months prior. Tears that had already flowed more times than could be counted. The “passing of the torch” from one minister to another. The final good-bye to a much loved man and his family. The welcoming of a man who seems passionate about his new work, a sweet wife, three girls with a fourth arriving by way of adoption at the beginning of the year, two kitty cats, and no “psycho” dog.

This was supposedly a rare event for a church of Christ, but I venture to guess a transition such as this, and done with such fervor, does not happen often in any church let alone a place of employment. Don’t recall passing a torch to any of my replacements, except one that I trained in a law firm, and we’re still friends to this day.

It was different for sure, and all in all, a very nice concept to initiate for this congregation. Jessica prayed over the girls, Janice prayed over Kenrie, and Greg prayed over Geron. Then the elders prayed over the family with the entire congregation surrounding them. Geron was touched and somewhat speechless at the outset.

But the big shocker--Greg and Steve actually wore suits. Have seen the others in the more formal Sunday attire a few times, but think Greg and Steve are the rebels when it comes to ties and suits,:) but what a fun pair to be around. When Steve walked down the hall, I introduced myself. Don’t think Steve was amused until I said how good he looked.:) Greg blew my plans to do the same when he changed to a Stooge shirt after service was concluded. Nevertheless, they all looked very dapper.

Greg may be remembered for “passing the torch” to the next preacher at Long Beach, but each of us will have our own personal memories. Although only a short-time member here, I saw the love many had for Greg, Janice, Josh, and Jessica. They always will be missed, and they always will be a welcome sight.

Noticed a few tears and the scrambling around for tissue, when Greg was talking, but I kept my composure. Figured I had no more tears to cry after all these months. Although gone from our midst, this won’t necessarily be the last thing I ever will write about this man and his Southern belle whom I have come to love very much. My memories go so deep.

I didn’t want Greg to leave and hate that Greg is gone. Although no one is irreplaceable, in my heart no one can ever fill Greg’s shoes, but people, especially ministers, come and go and you learn to accept the inevitable--things never stay the same. Have finally come to terms with this transition and wish the Bryan family success in their new ministry.

Where’s the tissue?

TRANSCENDENCE

Never thought of myself an art connoisseur and didn’t invest in high-end artifacts or drawings but was surrounded by some who had talent. My brother was the artist in our family. I wanted to draw but settled for tracing over pictures of horses from the encyclopedia by either projecting the picture onto a piece of paper taped to the wall or laying tracing paper over the picture in the book.

Dad’s mother was an artist and two oil paintings hung on our hallway wall. Carl was quite the artist although not many people knew about this talent. I even tried to check out a few books from the library to learn the basic techniques of drawing. Many things can be self-taught, but artistic talent seems to demand classroom time with an instructor.

Sunday afternoon I went to the Laguna Art Museum with a friend. Have visited a few art museums in the past but not of this genre. The current exhibit was Heart and Soul--Rick Griffin’s Transcendence. This artist was a major presence and set the stage for pictorial illustration during the counterculture movement of the 60s and 70s. His art work influenced surf and psychedelic rock movements and conveyed idealism and hope with a mixture of hedonism, politics, and new and experimental expression. Griffin created the cartoon character Murphy that was in Surf Magazine. His work includes album covers for The Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, and Bob Dylan; posters for The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, The Who, and Janis Joplin; and the logo for Rolling Stone Magazine.

I was not a part of the hippie scene. Did not listen to rock or heavy metal music. Never experimented with psychedelic drugs. As a matter of fact, one of many messages drummed into me while growing up was that those who participated in such things were considered rabble and should be avoided at all cost. Being one who didn’t want to do anything wrong, I complied wholeheartedly and steered clear of such practices and associations.

So why would I be interested in going to such an exhibition? Well, for one my friend asked; that was enough reason for me, but did some research prior to going and something caught my eye--Griffin’s work also influenced the born-again Christian movement. That aspect intrigued me. After Rick became a Christian around 1971, his work was instilled with Christian themes and symbolism. He did album covers for Mustard Seed and posters for Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa and Harvest Christian Fellowship. He also did a project for Maranatha Music--an illustration of The Gospel of John done in acrylic and ink.

Rick Griffin was a talented artist whose life was cut short when he was involved in a fatal motorcycle accident in the Northern part of California in 1991. His work, especially after he became a Christian, was done with such exquisite detail. So vivid. Great focus. His last picture was used in “The City” magazine--Rick kneeling in front of an open Bible at Heaven’s gate.

EARLY MORNING SURPRISES

By now you already know that my parents live in a retirement facility near the church. One building is considered assisted living. The one Mom and Dad live in is known as independent living; however, there you probably can find just as many caregivers, walkers, and dementia-related illnesses. The laundry room, with six washers and dryers, is down in the basement. The exercise room, complete with treadmill, bicycle, Total Gym, Nustep, and elliptical machine, is on the top floor of the 14-story building.

Mom hates the inconvenience of going elsewhere to do laundry and goes before dawn to avoid the rush. This particular morning after putting the clothes in the dryer, Mom went to work out in the exercise room. The door was closed--an unusual sight. Mom opened the door and turned on the light. On the Total Gym sat one of the male residents. Mom walked over to the Nustep and looked over at the gentleman and as Gomer Pyle would say, “Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!” He had on a t-shirt. That’s it. Nothing else. Nearby on the floor lay a white piece of material. Mom kept looking to make sure he was bottomless (don’t tell Dad). The man got up (Mom thought he was going to put on his underwear), but he walked passed it toward another machine.

Mom went to the lobby to get some assistance. Finally found a female custodian who went with Mom to the exercise room. The man told her his name and Mom and the custodian walked him to his apartment located at the end of the hall. His wife answered the door. Both have Alzheimer’s and only have a caregiver during the day. Have a feeling that will soon change. By the way, the white lump of material on the floor--a wet washcloth.

Reminds me of a joke I recently heard--A man was walking down the street and noticed three elderly women lying in the front yard with no clothes on. When a neighbor walked up, the man asked him, “What are those elderly women doing in that yard with no clothes on?” He said, “Oh, those are former prostitutes and they are having a yard sale.”