This past summer, as part of our 35th year reunion of the Owensboro High School class of 1977, I was asked to speak at a memorial service in honor of classmates who had passed away.  I have been humbled by the response and feedback I still receive regarding that speech and decided to post those remarks here for people to read.  Perhaps something here will be a blessing to you as you consider the loss of friends or family members.

Thanks for reading!

Class Reunion Memorial Service 6-2-2012
Speech by Steve McFarland at First General Baptist Church

The poet John Dunne once wrote the famous line – “Every man’s death is diminishing to me for I am part of mankind – therefore never ask for whom the bell tolls – it tolls for thee.” There may not be a better word to describe how I feel as I think about classmates who have passed away than that of ‘diminished’. Certainly we are diminished in numbers as a class and we are diminished in spirit having lost one of our peers. Part of us is taken away when we lose a loved one – there is a piece of us that dies a little bit along with the person we have lost. To lose a peer and a classmate is to lose a little of ourselves.
It is an honor for me to be asked to speak this morning at this special occasion as we come together to remember our class mates who have left us far too soon and unexpectedly. It is one thing to speak at memorial services for a person much older – even one of our parents or grandparents who many of us have lost – seems somehow easier to talk about than memorializing our peers – our friends and classmates.
You and I will forever be connected by a common experience. We went to school together. Many of us attended the same elementary school, the same junior high and all of us graduated as Owensboro High School Red Devils – class of 1977. Nothing will ever take that experience away from us. We began this journey together and as the theme of our weekend states – we are “continuing the journey”.
There is something powerful about sharing a common experience. Several years ago I was in Louisville Kentucky at the Executive Inn (West, I believe) sitting in the lobby waiting on a friend that I was to meet and attend a meeting there with. And while I waited I noticed some people arriving wearing insignia that indicated they were military veterans. I overheard some of their conversations and learned that they were veterans of the Korean War and were at the hotel to celebrate a reunion with other Korean War veterans. As I sat there and watched as they arrived I noticed the way they embraced one another – some cried, some laughed and it was obvious that they were ecstatic to see one another. But as I listened I came to realize that they did not necessarily know one another. Although at first I assumed they were old friends the way they embraced each other – I soon realized they, in fact, had no knowledge of who each other was (in most cases). But they were still embracing, crying, laughing, talking, and genuinely glad to see each other.
They were bound together by this common experience. They had fought a war together and they were alive to share their memories and celebrate their lives together.
That is exactly what reunions do. They celebrate life. Here we are – alive, living in perhaps different parts of the world, but alive and we share a common experience. We were class mates. God in his infinite wisdom – designed our lives to intersect in a particular time and place. And nothing will ever take that from us.
Not long ago I was in an antique store (if I may say parenthetically here – no better indication of getting older than hanging around antique stores) when I spotted the famous poster of Farah Fawcett. You remember the one – her in her one piece bathing suit looking at the camera with that flowing hair and white toothy smile. If some of the ladies here don’t remember that poster – I can promise you all the guys do. The picture was from 1976 and I’m sure it hung in many of the men’s bedroom walls when we were juniors and seniors. But as I looked at that poster I thought about how Farah Fawcett had recently passed away after a lengthy illness that ravished her body and beauty. She’s gone. But here in this picture she is captured forever in her beauty. We may always remember her as she was in that famous pose.
There is obviously something very misleading about that image. And it is that life lasts forever. The endless summer, the eternal youth, the perpetual senior year, the party that never ends, the life that never grows old. The image of Farah Fawcett in light of her tragic illness and passing is a hard reminder of our mortality and we come here today to accept the reality that life is not forever. Many of our classmates – who we remember in the hallways of Southern Junior High and Estes and Foust and Longfellow and all the places where we lived our youth together are gone. And so as we remember them – and as we celebrate their shortened lives, we should celebrate our life – because we know it does not last forever. The Bee Gees sang “Stayin Alive”. “whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother you’re stayin alive – stayin alive. Feel the city breakin and everybody shakin and we’re stayin alive – stayin alive”. How ironic that just a couple of weeks ago, Robin Gibbs – who co-­wrote that famous song – died after his own battle with cancer.
Perhaps no generation before or since ours has looked upon themselves with such a sense of permanency. We were the baby boomers – going to change the world – make love and not war. We would have seasons in the sun – forever. I have often thought that the many educators in our lives that we owe so much – failed to teach us one thing – our lives will not go on forever. I heard one speaker once say the greatest lesson he learned in his life is what he learned from (of all things) potato salad. As he put it – when we die people will gather and say nice things about us, some may even cry over us. But then they are going over to the church and eat potato salad.
So where does all this leave us? Are we to give up as we embrace the reality of growing older? Are we to be depressed and despondent over our mortality? Absolutely not. What we should do – is what we know how to do perhaps better than any generation ever – live. And let’s live now. Let us really ‘continue this journey’.
You know if we are anything we are survivors. I think our memorial of our fallen classmates needs to be done in such a way that we reflect upon our own lives. And when we think about us – we have to agree we are survivors. Think about it – We lived through bomb shelter scares, nuclear attack drills, school lunches, paddles, jock straps, jock checks, jock snaps, mandatory showers, bombardment, student street crossing guards (by the way – can you imagine us doing that today – putting a stick in the hands of a twelve-year-old and tell them to go stop traffic?) playing football in the streets, riding our bikes all over town without helmets, second-hand smoke, bullies, black and white television without remote control, telephones with cords. As boys we survived Wood Shop and with the exception of Ben Hill managed without cutting off fingers and the girls managed Home Economics without sewing theirs together. We went barefoot – stepped on rusty nails, climbed trees, and swam in the Sportscenter pool all without catching hepatitis. We survived spin the bottle, post office and truth or dare. We rode in cars without car seats or seat belts, if we wanted to hear a certain song on the radio we had to wait until Kirk Kirkpatrick would play it during “Memory Marathon” on WVJS.
But on a more serious note we have survived even more than that. We survived the Vietnam War and Desert Storm. We have survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and 911. For many of our class there has been survival of failed marriages, broken relationships and broken promises. Many of us have survived raising children and some have had to survive the heartbreak of burying them. We have survived incredible wealth and spectacular failures. We have survived unemployment, and personal illness.
We survived. Brothers and sisters, classmates of 1977 here we are – survivors!
I believe if we could talk to the classmates who we are memorializing today – they would say something like – enjoy the time you have – you may not have tomorrow. Live in the moment – continue the journey. Now before you think I am about to suggest you live up in some hedonistic, self-centered way let me say this: the thing that those veterans I witnessed in Louisville taught me was how blessed we are to be able to say to those we love – I love you! How blessed we are to be able to hold our children, perhaps tell our parents how much they mean to us – embrace a friend, love thy neighbor, forgive an enemy. That’s what we are left to do – that, I believe would be the message of our deceased classmates.
My favorite verse of scripture is John thirteen and fourteen. There we find Jesus foretelling Peter’s public denial- foretelling Peter’s failure, his weakness, his sin. Peter must have been personally devastated at the thought that he would fail his Lord so spectacularly. But Jesus, perhaps sensing Peter’s sorrow says in the next line – broken up by the chapter heading at 14 but really should be read straight through – “Let not your heart be troubled, believe in God believe also in me, in my father’s house are many rooms – and I go to prepare a place for you.”  It may very well be that Peter experienced survival guilt. Perhaps he on occasions wondered why he was spared. Why did Jesus die and he live on? Some of us may feel that way as we reflect on our deceased classmates. I suggest you hear the words of Jesus as he says: “Let not your hearts be troubled.”
Do you remember how we would make plans to meet up with each other at different places when we were in school together? We would say, “Hey! Meet me at the Sportscenter” or “Meet me at Rash Stadium”. We’d meet up at the ice rink or cruise Wesleyan Park Plaza or CW Skeeter’s Boogie Shack. We always had a plan and place to meet up with each other.  As I close I would like to share with you a story I heard about a father and his family and the way they decided to say good-bye to one another if they were to be separated for any period of time. As we enjoy our reunion this weekend – we realize that our numbers will continue to dwindle and that there is no guarantee we will see each other again. It was in that spirit that this family had decided rather than say the words “good-bye” when they parted company the father would say, “I’ll see you just inside .. ” and his children and wife would respond, “the middle eastern gate.” In the bible heaven is described as having four walls with three gates on each. This family realized that if they were to be separated by death – they would have a plan to meet up again in heaven – just inside the middle eastern gate. The father would say, “I’ll meet you just inside” and the others would respond, “the middle eastern gate.”
As we leave here today – let us do so remembering life is not permanent, and since there is no guarantee about our next reunion lets enjoy the time we have and continue the journey as long as God allows. And after our time is done -let’s not say good-bye but – ‘ I’ll meet you just inside ‘ – (class respond) ‘the middle eastern gate’.
Let’s pray.

He was the first person we saw when we entered the church.  Hispanic, older, dressed in mismatched button down shirt and polyester pants – he offered us coffee and donuts.  I never got his name.  My intuition immediately was that I had met him before – men and woman who had what looked liked menial roles in life – who performed tasks in church and out that would never qualify them for monuments or statues or shrines.  Yet, they were people who found a place in their church to serve – to be relied upon – to be needed.  Yes – I had seen this man before.

The Cornerstone Bible Baptist Church is located in Redlands, Ca. only a few miles from our apartment here in Loma Linda.  Surrounded by Seventh Day Adventists – we decided to try another church and after unsuccessfully locating a Southern Baptist congregation in the area – I suggested Cornerstone after researching them on the internet. Obviously a small church – it would be much more intimate than the high church atmosphere of the SDA in Loma Linda we had attended before Christmas.  Furthermore it was described as a “New Covenant” church which I found to my liking and Lisa agreed to go along with my suggestion.

The website said the morning Bible study began at 9:00AM with the first fifteen minutes being “fellowship time.”  We arrived about five before nine and began looking for a way into the church.  The building had two upper entrances and a lower entrance to choose from.  We saw no indication of anyone in attendance and after I unsuccessfully tried to open one of the upper doors, Lisa headed back to the car – thinking this church was closed for good.  A man across the street standing on his front porch noticed our attempt to enter the church and yelled for me to go through the basement door.  I walked into the church and met the Hispanic man in his mismatched attire who welcomed me and invited back to a larger meeting room.  Lisa then joined me and soon the Pastor and his family arrived and we introduced ourselves.

It was after we settled into our seats that the little man, (I’ll call him, Philip) in charge of opening the church and getting the coffee started, offered us donuts and, I noticed, continued being busy around the room, getting all the needed cups and spoons for the coffee.  After about twenty minutes of small talk the pastor asked Philip to begin our Bible study with an opening prayer.  Philip spoke with a heavy Spanish accent but his earnest prayer made me think that he was asked to pray often in public here in this little church and he did so without hesitation.

After the Bible study we moved upstairs to the main sanctuary where Lisa and I counted as two of the thirteen people in attendance on this particular Sunday.  The Pastor, his wife and four children made up six. The service began with prayer and then the Pastor led us in singing “How Great Thou Art” with his middle school son controlling the accompanying track on a small sound system toward the back of the room.  There were long, almost uncomfortable pauses before each song as we waited for the music to begin.  The thirteen of us sang every verse of every song that morning from hymn books that looked like they had been in a flood.  The crinkled covers and brittle pages had seen better days – but the meaning of each of the old hymns – was still the same.

The message was fantastic – the Pastor, a professor of engineering at a local college, we learned, talked of God’s grace, God’s forgiveness, and God’s sovereignty.  We loved it!  Following the sermon, Philip stood in the front of the church without being prompted and gave the offertory prayer.  He then, alone, collected the offering  We were soon after dismissed and went our separate ways.

As Lisa and I were driving to get some lunch – we talked about the positive message, the few people in attendance but what nice people they were.  But my mind was on Philip.  I could not quit thinking about him.  Being in an unfamiliar place it is a wonderful thing to see people you are familiar with – see people you know.  When we were in Pennsylvania – it was beyond words how great it was to see our kids when they came to visit or friends who drove up and spent time with us.  It is hard to describe that feeling.

I felt that to some degree as I watched Philip at church.  I had seen him or people like him before who serve and work behind the scenes.  They would never be comfortable on center stage.  While others are praised and glorified for a great singing voice or being a great speaker or teacher or writer – we tend to not even notice the Philips of the world.  Theirs is the widows mite of service and importance.  I remember a man years ago in my home church whose job it was to count the number of people in attendance during Sunday night services.  His job was not even to count those during the more popular Sunday morning services – his job was counting the Sunday night crowd.  He kept a little book with him and made tally marks as people entered the building.  It was his job – his place and position of importance.

In our short time of traveling, Lisa and I have seen some marvelous things.  We lived in Gettysburg Pa. where heroes are glorified with statues and monuments.  We have worshipped in churches where Presidents have attended and whose seats are marked  with plaques.  We have attended churches with seventy voice choirs trained to hit every note with perfect pitch and timing – flawless and polished.

I met a man in Hanover who I wrote about that took care of his wife day and night who had Alzheimer’s disease – he did so without resentment or sense of great sacrifice.  He did that because he loved his wife.  His name is John.  Here in California I met a man whose name I don’t even know – and I’ll bet he was the first one to arrive and last to leave church on Sunday.  He fixed coffee and took up the offering.  There probably won’t be monuments for either one of them.

When you are away from home it’s just good to see something or someone familiar.  And it really is true that in Philip I can say – I have seen him somewhere before.

…,and another thing –

what is the deal with the bicycle riders?  Here in Loma ‘Tofu’ they have bike lanes on most major streets (which I like) and plenty of bicyclists – whom I do not.  Would someone once and for all please explain to me why all bicyclists have to look like Lance Armstrong competing in the Tour de France?  What is up with the spandex and is that absolutely necessary to ride a bike?  Can I not get just as good a workout wearing a t-shirt and shorts?  Someone please tell those middle-aged guys – they don’t look like Lance.  They’re are some bulges that would be better hidden under a loose t-shirt.  I’m just saying.  Please stop it – please!  Keep riding – that is great!  Just lose the stupid bike outfits.   What good is it to be less wind resistant if you are working out?  Is this a race?  Just stop it!!

One thing I know about is bicycles.  Mine was the bicycle generation – I mean who of my generation did not own or wish for a Schwinn “Sting-Ray”.  Then it was on to the “Varsity” 10-speeds – the original street bike.  I know bikes and I know I could ride with the best of them and would not be caught dead in spandex then and certainly not now.  I am tempted to go buy a Schwinn “Heavy-Duty” – one like I delivered newspapers with growing up – attach a newspaper bag to the handlebars and show up at the next bike club ride – wearing jeans, sweatshirt and a football helmet.  I have to wonder if they would even let me ride.  I can see them now kicking their $1,000.00 bikes into the highest gear and trying to lose the ‘weirdo’.

All this goes back to the fact that the fitness craze is really big business.  It is not enough to just ride a bike for fitness – you have to buy into the whole “package”.  You need the high-dollar two ounce bicycle, the proper uniform, a helmet made by NASA engineers, a stationary bike at home for the bad weather work-outs and all the other gadgets that can be wired to the high-tech, graphite frame.  You don’t just start riding the old bike in your garage – are you crazy?  Better take out a loan for a few large – you will need it to just get started properly.

Are you thinking about walking for fitness? – well you need these special Nike walking shoes, a membership at the health club that has the Gyro-7000 treadmill with heart monitor, EKG read-out, television and for an extra fifteen dollars a month – a personal trainer teaching you “proper” walking techniques since you have been doing it all wrong since you were two.  Then you may want to stop by the vitamin store and pick up the special “Walking” supplement – designed to give you stronger calf muscles.

I suppose fitness only works if you are doing it in the proper “style”.  We are first expected to be “consumers”.  Once we have bought into everything the fitness industry is selling – we either become too depressed from all the money we have shelled out to exercise or we neglect other parts of our lives because we have shelled out so much money that we feel we must exercise to get our money’s worth.

I had a great-grandmother who lived to be one hundred years old and she cooked with lard, used only real butter and ate fried chicken twice a week and gave birth to seven children.  She never walked on a treadmill, probably never rode a bike in her life, and never joined a health club.

She also never wore spandex.

Now – I feel better.

I heard it said once that if God wanted us to be vegan he would have made us with teeth like cows.  As it is we have canine teeth – designed for ripping and cutting meat.  If you want to be vegan – go ahead – but don’t say God told you to because He didn’t – because He did not equip you that way.

We are living in what has to be the vegan capital of the world.  Seventh Day Adventists are all vegan and do not consume anything with caffeine.  God bless them for their healthy lifestyle.  But mark this well – Lisa and I will never be vegan or caffeine free.  Trust me that decision is self-preservation.  If we could not get red meat or caffeine – one of us would kill the other one within 24 hours.

This is a beautiful place – Loma Linda California.  Some really nice people are here.  It is very safe, the mountain ranges all around us are breath-taking and we can see lemon and orange trees from our little deck at our apartment.  But – these health freaks around here are getting on my nerves.  Get me back to southern cooking where fat is dripping from the steak sandwiches and real butter is slathered on every hot roll and biscuit.  Eat, drink and be merry – this ol’ boy ain’t never gonna eat a vegan hamburger or tofu.  Forget it.

Lisa and I went to the local fitness club tonight with the idea of possibly joining.  Nope!  If we could have seen just one person who was as big a fat ass as Lisa and I – we may have considered it.  Since when did health clubs not allow fat asses in the door?  Is it not for the people like me – people who need to get into shape that these fitness centers exist?  Not here apparently.  I am certain there were people still talking about us when we left.  “Did you see those two fat asses come in?  I think they’ve been eating red meat.”  One lady was so proud of her muscled bottom – she had it stuck up in the air in some spider-like pose – in the hallway.  Do you think she wanted us to look at her tight protuberance?  I think she did.  Let me get down in that pose in spandex and see if anyone is looking.  Oh – they’ll be looking alright and then talking about it for weeks.  “Did you see that fat man having the seizure in the floor the other night at the club?”

This place is like “Stepford wives” only with robotic fitness freaks.  Maybe if Lisa and I were here longer we may be inspired to “drink the water”.  But we are holding out for good Owensboro Bar B-Q, Dipper burgers, New China, and a good Briarpatch steak.

Gosh – we miss Owensboro.  Gosh – we miss Gettysburg.  Gosh – we miss people who need to lose some weight like us.  Here is to the fat asses – eat up!

Love, Steve and Lisa

The Loma-Linda “News and Views to Use and Abuse” stopped by for a visit with Lisa and Steve  The following is a transcript of that interview.

News:  Thanks for taking time for us today and first let me ask what brings you to Loma Linda California?

Steve:  We came in a 2002 Chevy Trailblazer.

Lisa:  I think he means – why did we come to Loma-Linda?  Let me answer that for my moron husband.  I am a travel sonographer and I was offered a position here at the Loma Linda University Medical Center through the first week of March.

News:   And have you found the area to your liking?

Steve:  With the exception of the crazy traffic, rainy and cold weather, not starting work for two weeks, being away from home at Christmas, and missing our family and dog, Agnes – I’d say yeah it isn’t bad.  Plenty of Mexican restaurants.

Lisa:  Actually the people have been very nice and the weather is far better than Kentucky this time of year.  Plus we are just an hour from Disneyland.

News:  Speaking of Disneyland – Steve, I understand you had a job interview there.  How did that go?

Steve:  Well, I didn’t get a job – but it was a good experience.  I had not interviewed for a position in over twenty years and I could not stop smiling at the thought of interviewing at Disneyland in Anaheim Ca.  They were looking to hire for the spring and were not hiring temporary cast members.  Had I been here in October – there may have been a chance.  A funny story – while waiting to be interviewed Lisa noticed that I had on a plaid coat with a striped shirt.  Fearing that the person interviewing me may be gay – (not that there is anything with wrong with that) she thought they may also be more fashion conscious than I am and she suggested I remove my coat.  Turns out he was not gay (at least he talked about his wife and kids pictured on his desk).  He actually was very nice and said I seemed like a good fit for Disney.  It just was not meant to be.

News:  Tell me about the thirty hour drive out to California.

Lisa:  From about the Oklahoma line the landscape changes drastically – lots of open space with a lot of nothing to look at.  We thought we would never get here.  We did detour and go to Las Vegas for two days since our apartment would not be ready.  We enjoyed that.  Stayed at the “Vdara” hotel – which does not have a casino and it was great. ‘ Priceline’ gave us a good price.  We walked up and down the strip and…,

Steve:  Let me interrupt here a moment – I had so many blisters from all the walking we did – I thought I may need to find a hospital.  The second day I was walking on the side of my left foot and on the toes of my right.  People were offering me wheelchairs when I went into a casino.  A “Grits” bus stopped to pick me up once (yes – here in Las Vegas).  I bent over once to tie my shoe and a man dropped some coins in my coat pocket.  So my first experience in Las Vegas was not so good.

Lisa:  Well – I love Las Vegas and one night while Steve was back in the room nursing his blisters – I went to the casino and sat down at some nickel slot machines and there I met a couple who lived right outside Gettysburg.  Can you believe that?  We had a great time. I was telling them about places Steve and I enjoyed eating at in Gettysburg that they had never heard of.  It was a hoot!  Worth every bit of the twenty dollars I lost at the slot machine.

Steve:  See – I could have used that twenty dollars on blister cream.

News:  What was it like being away from home at Christmas

Lisa:  This was the first time in both our lives that we had not been in Owensboro, Ky for Christmas and it was a little weird, and a little sad.  We say we will never allow ourselves to do this again.  With Heather having her baby in April – it allows us to be home for that and so the sacrifice now is necessary.  We are sort of glad Christmas is over and we can move on.

Steve:  Our family has been great in their support of our travels – but we hope to never be gone again during the holidays.  It made it even worse that Lisa had not started work.  Plus they talked about this really big snow they were expecting and we really missed not being able to share that.  Turns out – Owensboro did not get as much snow as expected.  Snow forecasts in Owensboro are, I’m convinced, a Kroger conspiracy to get people to stock up.

News:  I understand, Lisa, that your work is not what you expected.

Lisa:  No it is not anything like I was told it would be.  I came here expecting to do EKG and treadmill tests but learned they need me and some other travellers to basically do computer data entry of medical records as they transition to a new computer software program.  The upside is I don’t have to wear a uniform and I’m still being paid.  It is a change of pace for me and the people have been very nice and appreciative of my help.  The way I look at – they are paying me the same so who cares.  I’ve learned to just go with the flow and I think they appreciate that.

Steve:  Lisa is amazing at adjusting to change.  I think that is why traveling so far as been so natural for her.  Plus she has a really good sense of direction and I don’t.  But she can’t cook and I can – so she needs me. (wink, wink).

News:  How do you like the area where you are staying?

Steve:  Our apartment is really nice and is in a very safe neighborhood.  I walk a few miles everyday and it is convenient to the grocery and other shopping areas.  The weather here is actually very nice – just a little cooler than we expected southern California to be.  It is in the high fifties to mid sixties during the day – and mid to high thirties at night.

Lisa: The mountain ranges we wake up to see are breathtaking and we have driven up into the San Bernardino’s and the view from the higher elevations is amazing.  We will definitely miss that.

Steve: To be honest Lisa and I loved Gettysburg and the people we met so much – this has been a tough place to embrace – so far.  The history of that area gave me so much to do with my free time that I find that lacking here.  We even talked about her accepting a position in Hanover if it is offered at some point.  We can see ourselves living there.

Lisa:  But to be fair – we have only been here a couple of weeks and there is so much more to see in Los Angeles and the surrounding area.  But – Steve is right – it will be hard to beat our experience in Gettysburg.

News:  Thank you both for your time.

One of our first blogs way back in July after Lisa and I just moved to Hanover, Pa. was the story of trying to find the First Baptist Church of Hanover. Our GPS mistakenly took us to the First Church of the Nazarene – which happened to be right next to the church we were looking for.  We stayed and fell in love with the little church – having never made it to the church we were originally looking for.  I spoke of GPS standing for “God’s Positional System” and how it seemed crystal clear to us that He wanted us at this little church for the blessings that we unexpectedly received.

Now we find ourselves in Loma Linda, California and living in a community made up of a hospital, university and an academy associated with the Seventh Day Adventists. Lisa and I had unsuccessfully been looking for a Southern Baptist church.  We even considered trying to attend a church linked to the mega church, “Saddleback”.  Then God stepped in – again.

Friday night I decided to walk over to the hospital campus (just a five-minute walk from our apartment) to mail a couple of bill payments.  I never thought God could use such mundane activities as paying bills to teach us something – but I was wrong.

While walking across the campus – I noticed some little booths set up in the center quad area and as I got closer realized they were little scenes from the Christmas story.  A couple of people walked up and explained to me it was called, “The Simplicity of Christmas” and would be starting in the next few minutes.  I called Lisa and she joined me for the guided tour of the different scenes depicting the Christmas story. Some of the youth from the church played the different roles of angels, Mary, Joseph and the wise men.  It was spectacularly simple.  Afterward we were invited into the church (located on the hospital campus) to sing Christmas carols and have refreshments.  We met a couple during that event who attended the church – the Loma Linda University Church of Seventh Day Adventists – and they invited us to the church yesterday (Saturday) for their regular weekly service.

It seemed so strange getting ready to go to church on a Saturday morning – but when in Rome…,  We noticed right away that we were waaaaay under dressed for their church service and felt really out-of-place.  I searched for any man in attendance who was like me – not wearing a tie. Lisa was in search of woman not in a dress and high heels.  We both spotted a few dressed similarly to us but still felt the need to sit in the back and cover ourselves with the huge programs we were handed as we stepped into the sanctuary.  We started feeling more comfortable as they allowed us in the door with a smile and their traditional greeting, “Happy Sabbath”.

We walked into the surprisingly huge sanctuary where on the stage was a seventy person choir and a fifty piece orchestra.  The organ itself looked like something the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would approve of and the decorations were stunning.  We had walked past this building numerous times but had no idea it was a sanctuary.  I thought back to that first experience in Hanover and the contrast of styles between the “high” church of this place and the simplistic style of that little Nazarene church in Pennsylvania.  God had brought Lisa and I two thousand miles from home – away from family and friends – to show us He lives in high churches with trained musicians and in little brick buildings where cassette tapes are still used to lead singing.  What a contrast – but what a lesson.

The service was spectacular as the choir and orchestra performed selections from Handel’s “Messiah” including a heart stopping rendition of the “Hallelujah Chorus”.  The simple message was about Jesus being identified as a “Nazarene”, a place disregarded as being without honor and shamed.  The pastor deftly turned that historic truth to say many came into the church this morning – “from Nazareth” – places of shame and sorrow.  But all should take heart in knowing Christ, the Nazarene – is who we ultimately will be identified with as His children.  Wonderful!

It seemed so strange to me as I sat listening to the music and message that this was Saturday morning.  All day Lisa and I felt confused thinking it was Sunday and I even joked as we walked back to our apartment that I felt like going home and watching an NFL game – but wait – this is Saturday.

Our travels have given Lisa and I a chance to meet some wonderful people, see amazing places and experience life from various perspectives.  But maybe the most important lesson in all our travels is knowing God is loved and worshipped in different ways and different places.  He is loved in small one hundred seat buildings and in thousand seat auditoriums.  He is loved in California, Pennsylvania and Kentucky.  He is loved by trained musicians and uneducated harmonica players.  He is loved on Saturday mornings and Sunday mornings.  He is loved by people who speak different languages and wear different styles of clothing.

During the choir and orchestra’s performance of the “Hallelujah Chorus” Lisa and I looked at each other amazed at the high, perfectly pitched voices of the (obviously) trained choir.  But behind me I heard a small, sort of squeaky voice trying to sing along with this powerful and soaring famous piece of music.  She was giving it everything she had.  Finally – I had to turn to see who it was singing and there was a small, older African-American lady – singing without embarrassment or restraint.  “Hallelujah” indeed!

God is loved in a lot of places by a lot of different people and where Lisa and I have found that love of God expressed – we feel like we are home.

Merry Christmas!

Steve and Lisa

We are waiting and waiting – still have not started work yet here in Loma Linda and we are trying to stay patient and busy.  Lisa has not heard when she will begin her new job here – but she is getting paid for doing nothing.  In the meantime – we wait.  While waiting I have been working jigsaw puzzles and in doing that remembered an idea I had years ago about lessons jigsaw puzzles can teach us – my “Prayer of Jabez”, if you will. This is something of a first draft of what may need to be expanded.  I would love to hear from you and your thoughts about my ideas here.   Here goes…,

Introduction

Sturgis Ky. – a little town in western Kentucky with about 2,000 citizens where my grandparents lived and where I spent many weeks during my childhood.  There was not much to do in Sturgis – swing on the front porch, go to church, even made a game of killing black ants on the sidewalk.  It was there my grandmother first introduced me to working jigsaw puzzles.  When all the ants were stomped and the sidewalks rolled up we would gather around her little card table and work jigsaw puzzles.

Puzzles, I have noticed have gotten really fancy.  There are now three-dimensional structures you can put together and some that could be glued together for practical works of art – right up there with the black velvet Elvis prints.  But the puzzles that I am speaking of are those with the pastoral scenes – most of which had a running creek, red barn and wind mill.  My grandmother had a plentiful supply of those and seemed always to be working on one.  It was during those memorable times with her working those puzzles that I began to learn the great lessons they teach about life and who I am.  Allow me to explain.

Life is confusing.

To see all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle as it is first emptied onto the table is to see a mass of confusion.  In fact, many times I looked at all those pieces and felt a little overwhelmed at the seemingly impossible task of putting it together.  How long will this take?  Will I stick with it long enough?  Will I fail? There are times my life has looked like it was just dumped out of a jigsaw puzzle box with a thousand pieces in complete disarray.  The overwhelming feeling of trying to organize my life – make sense of the craziness is, at times, more than I can take.  So many things in life are out of our control and to step back and see the many pieces needing to be put together – makes us feel like just putting it back in the box.  Pack it in.  Many puzzles that I have attempted to put together were left partially completed or never tried.  We could all agree that we wish, at times, that we could just put our life back in the box and start over with a new one.  The message of redemption and grace that allows second chances is what draws me to the message of Christ.  Show me another religion in the world that offers such radical forgiveness and unending, unchanging forgiveness and I’ll give it a serious look.  Trust me – they don’t exist except in the Christian faith.

We have to start somewhere.

Our life can look like a big pile of pieces – many not even turned over yet to see what they reveal about who we are.  So to work our puzzle we must first turn all the pieces over to reveal what they are and eventually discover where they fit into the big picture.  To look closely at the different pieces of our life may not be easy and certainly not always pretty.  Having worked in public education as a social worker for years I met many who had given up trying to understand those pieces of their lives that made them who they were.  It can be extremely painful to look closely at ourselves and admit those crazy looking pieces with the odd shapes are part of us.  Making excuses and blaming others is far easier.  We can choose to throw away some of those unwanted pieces of our lives – stick them back in the box.  But we have to know our lives will never be complete until we admit they are part of us and put them in their proper place.

Getting started

At times it is even difficult knowing where to begin putting a puzzle together.  My grandmother taught me to work the straight edges first until the border of the puzzle is complete.  I love that part of puzzle making.  Create the border with the straight edges and then you know how big the puzzle will be and build some confidence that you can really get this done.  Some puzzles are actually made without a border – just to add to the challenge.  You can have it!  I need a border.  I discovered years ago that people, particularly young people, really want borders in their lives.  Kids will continuously complain about the limits parents put on them.  But never be fooled to think they don’t actually want limits.  So many middle school children I worked with through the years were never given limits and it is what they craved from their parents the most.  Limits suggest concern and when a child lives without parental concern – their lives turn into a mess.  I love putting the border together for a puzzle and see, for the first time, how big it will actually be.  To not have that sense – I may feel overwhelmed, perhaps not even certain the table will be able to contain its unknown size.  Likewise – I love the idea of dreaming big.  But we may be doing an injustice to children by not helping them to understand their limitations and to be successful within the boundaries of their abilities.

The piece that does not fit

There are pieces to my puzzle that just don’t seem to fit.  They look right – almost fit right but I have to finally admit – they don’t go there.  In fact, they don’t even belong to this puzzle.  This piece I have been struggling with belongs to another puzzle entirely.  It is in the wrong puzzle – it is part of someone elses puzzle.  You get the idea.  But here I am pressing, pushing, bending – whatever I can do to make this alien puzzle piece fit as I think it should.  Finally, exasperated and weary – I admit it does not belong.

I will never be six-foot seven.  That is a reality I have finally had to admit.  But, I am only a foot away so maybe – just maybe – I have a chance.  Nope!  I am 53 years old and I ain’t never gonna be six-foot seven.  In fact – I think I’m getting shorter.  That piece of the puzzle does not fit into this picture.  Real peace in my life had always taken place when I can accept who and what I am – not what I think I should be.  People look back on their lives with too much regret thinking they should have done this or that – should have been this way or that way.  Never really finding peace in who and what they became in life.  I learned in jigsaw puzzle making that some pieces were never designed to fit into your puzzle.  Let me repeat that – some pieces of a puzzle were not designed to fit into your puzzle.  Those pieces were designed for another puzzle – not yours.

Accepting that principal in your life will lead to wonderful peace of mind.

The piece that should not be here

So many times in my puzzle making experience I work with a puzzle piece that looks completely out-of-place.  It doesn’t look like it belongs in my puzzle – has to be a mistake, I think.  But it fits perfectly – it just does not look right.  In fact, the puzzle may be nearly finished before I can make sense of how it is part of the big picture..

In recent days our nation has been shocked and saddened by the senseless death of school children and school staff at the hand of a crazed gunman at their elementary school.  Our minds struggle to find a place to file that one – it just makes no sense.  And so we watch and mourn with the parents and for now – set this aside because we cannot understand what just happened.  This piece to our puzzle just does not look right and even more than that – we don’t want it to.

But it is a part of our puzzle – we grudgingly have to admit.

Not until the puzzle is nearly complete can we begin to see how those strange, unwanted parts fit into our lives.  This may take years and for some it may take us standing before God himself before we fully understand.   I agree with C.S. Lewis who once said, “The loudest sound we will hear in heaven is the sound, ‘Ah-hah!’  That makes sense – because we certainly cannot make sense of some of these things now.

The finished product

There is nothing quite like the feeling of putting that last piece of the puzzle in place.  Finished!  A job well done!  Congratulations!  LIfe is not always easy or understandable and there are times in which we want to quit or grow so frustrated we wish all these pieces of our lives could be boxed up and exchanged for something else’s.  But these pieces – all the tiny parts of different shapes and colors – are who we are.

When we stand before our puzzle maker someday – we can only hope he looks at that finished product and says, “Well done!”

Blessings!

Steve

“It never rains in California but girl don’t they warn ya – it pours, man it pours!” 

Been a cold, rainy few days here in Loma Linda as Lisa and I try to get adjusted to this new place – quite different from Gettysburg Pa.  If we closed our eyes – we would think we were back home in Kentucky.  It has been just slightly warmer here than what we are used to in December but locals here say this is unusually cold for this part of the country.  Well of course when Lisa and I get here we would be met with record cold in southern California.  It has been in the fifties during the day and low forties at night.  We did a mission trip to London England once during a heat wave that set record temperatures in a country that does not have air conditioning.  It all stands to reason.  We went to a movie last night and I commented to Lisa as we were walking to our car in the drizzling rain it felt like it could actually be sleeting.

This first week here has been a mix of joy and frustration.  Our apartment is a blessing from God as it is in a safe neighborhood and a stone’s throw from the hospital where Lisa will be working – eventually (we think).  The situation with her work is that she is one of many travel staff brought in here while the regular hospital staff is trained on a new computer system (same one our new hospital in Owensboro will be using BTW).  She checked in with the HR department her first day as instructed but was informed that there had been some sort of mix up and they were not ready for the cardiac techs and were not sure when she would actually begin work.  Because she is under contract they must pay her regardless which is a good thing and right now we are enjoying a paid vacation.  But Lisa is not comfortable with that arrangement and is wanting to get settled into her new job asap.  We think something will get started for her next week.

As for me – I interviewed with Disneyland yesterday.  The drive from Loma Linda to Anaheim is around an hour (although it did take us two hours during rush hour the other night).  Driving the California freeways is everything you heard it was – how we miss south Frederica on a Friday night.  I remember once looking down at my speedometer while trying to change into one of the eight lanes and realized I was doing eighty mph in bumper to bumper traffic.  Then all of a sudden as you are driving white knuckled to the steering wheel – praying not to spin out and into one of the canyons below – a motorcycle will come flying between you and the car in the other lane.  If I swerved six inches that motorcycle rider would be in the next life – one, I hope, does not have freeways like this.  I look forward to the ‘streets of gold’ – just hope they’re not eight lanes.   Finally arriving – I went to the “Casting Center” and checked in and was called back into an interview room to meet with a “recruiter” named “John”.  I had applied on-line weeks ago knowing we would be in the area and finally an interview appointment was scheduled.  John told me to not be nervous (you kidding? – I couldn’t stop smiling thinking about being here in Disneyland applying for a job – how could I be nervous?) and that he would be asking me some questions and just getting to know me.  Unfortunately, after I explained our temporary status and reason for being in the area – he informed me that Disneyland was hiring for the spring and for permanent positions only.  Had I been here in October – they may have been able to hire me for Halloween and Christmas.  I thanked him and told him I didn’t want to take up anymore of his time – but he said I could stay and talk to him about Disney if I wanted since his next interview was not for thirty minutes.  So we talked Disney – and he explained how he had begun at one of the Disney hotels and was now a recruiter.  Disneyland does not hire “seasonal” staff to the extent that “Disney World” in Florida does.  He did say that I seemed like a perfect candidate for Disney since I was such a big Disney fan and understood their commitment to their “guests”.  I was very impressed when he said, “Our cast members have to understand the sacrifice guests make in paying the high cost for being here – it is not easy for families.  And we have to treat them accordingly.  They deserve our best.”  I love that!  (I wish schools would view and treat students as “guests” – that could really make a difference).  We had a great conversation and I thanked him for his time and headed back to Loma Linda.  I was a little disappointed but also a little relieved – that drive back and forth may have been too much to take.  And if I have to drive this freeway everyday – there are sure to be some dead motorcylists.

It has been a struggle trying to figure this area out.  As you drive around you will see a sign saying “Welcome to Loma Linda” but then street signs will say “City of Redlands”.  It is all in the San Bernardino Valley but hard to distinguish one community from another.  So far we have found all the people here to be very nice but feel we are a minority not understanding Spanish.  We will not be lacking for Mexican cuisine – Mexican restaurants are more abundant here than McDonalds.  I think I even saw Ronald McDonald wearing a sombrero.

It is weird being away from home at Christmas.  I suggested to Lisa we should at least put up a little tree – something that makes us feel like Christmas.  But then she begins yet another cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie and we feel at home again.  (Who writes this stuff and can I get in on that gig?)

We were so sad to hear about the tragedy in Connecticut.  Hug your kids and tell them you love them.

Blessings!

Steve and Lisa

Loma Linda at last.  Lisa and I pulled into our apartment complex around 3:00 pm (PST) yesterday and got settled into our new place.  Our apartment is in a small complex of four “cottages” and is an upstairs unit with a balcony.  We met a really nice couple living here while the husband receives cancer treatments at the hospital.  Apparently many patients stay here during their treatment.  Donna and Gary live in Northern California and told us they were members of a Latter Day Saints church.  We hit it off really well and will enjoy getting to know them.  Gary said it was an hour and half to two-hour drive to Disneyland (depending on the traffic) which sort of disappointed me as I am hoping to be able to work there but that may not work out.

We met one of the apartment office managers who came by to see if we needed anything.  Prince is a native of Ghana and is in his second year of med school at the University.  The Loma Linda medical campus consists of the hospital and a university and is about a five-minute walk from our apartment.

It took us about four hours to get here from Las Vegas and the traffic became insane the closer we got to Los Angeles.  We were told that the Loma Linda area is very quiet and safe with many seniors in the area (they can now add two more) but that the San Bernardino side of the interstate is a lot different with higher crime rate.

Hopefully we will get all that figured out and soon.

We will tell more of our story and experiences here in California as we get settled.

Thanks for reading!

Steve and Lisa

Here is a classic moment between Lisa and I as we traveled across the country to California. Yesterday we passed a sign that said “Continental Divide”. Lisa noticed the sign first and exclaimed, “Hey! We just crossed the Continental Divide”! To which after a long pause I replied “What the hell does that mean?” She “googled” the answer and explained it is where the water (rivers, streams, etc.) begin flowing to the west or east depending on which side of the “ridge” you are located. Every continent has a “continental divide”. So we are now where the water runs west. 

Our long journey from Owensboro Ky to Loma Linda California is nearly at an end as we rolled into Las Vegas last night around six o’clock (PST). After stopping off at Hoover Dam (where Lisa nearly fainted as we drove along the edge of the canyon) we checked into the Vdera Hotel and took in some of the sights. Lisa has been to Vegas a few times – even brought my mom with her once – but this was my first Vegas experience. Wow! Just walking from one resort to another was amazing. The Christmas decorations are absolutely over the top and the sprawling size of some resorts had us disoriented to the point of not being sure where we were. There are no clocks, no chairs (except at the slot machines) and very few exits. This place wants your money and is expert at finding ways to get it. We hope to see more of the sights today before leaving tomorrow (Tuesday) for our final three hours to Loma Linda.

Driving across country is something I’m glad to say we have done – but I’m not sure I want to do again. There is just so much I can take of the western landscape. Enduring canyon after canyon after vast plain after more open, flat, dusty, windy, mile after mile is a test in patience and will power. Not saying it isn’t spectacular in terms of scope and unique beauty – but not twelve hundred miles of it. I never thought I would say I missed the farmlands of Kentucky – but at least there are trees. About the only thing that saved our sanity was that we managed to listen to Christmas music on the radio all the way across the country but even Burl Ives “Holly – Jolly” became a little “Holy – Crappy” after 24 hours.

Viva Las Vegas!