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October 28, 2014

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Storied Past – 10

The seat was empty! Ramona looked around. There was no way Edith could have slipped out. Ramona was on the aisle seat! Now she was really confused! What could have happened to her? She knew it was crazy but she even looked under the seats.

Then she noticed that the bag was still there. She grabbed it and stood up. Edging her way up the aisle to the rear she looked at every seat for Edith. Arriving at the onboard restroom she checked there, too. It was unoccupied. Puzzled, she returned to her seat.

Well, that was surely weird; almost creepy, that she had been sitting by someone who suddenly disappeared. What on earth was going on? She settled back into her seat not sure what to think now. Well, there must be an easy explanation, but what? One moment she was talking to this nice, sweet, grandmotherly lady and the next she had disappeared!

She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Now really! Did all that just happen? No, she probably imagined it all. Surely it was brought on by the turmoil of the last several hours. At least she could chalk it up to a stressful day! Your mind can play tricks on you sometimes. She was just starting to believe this self-talk when a disturbing fact dawned on her. The bag!

She was still holding the bag Edith was carrying. Oh, God! It wasn’t her imagination, as she had tried to convince herself. The flowered bag was still in her hands. She slowly raised it up to look at it. It wasn’t very heavy for an overnight bag. She set it on the seat and laid her head back. Wasn’t this bizarre?

What did it all mean? And the way Edith had looked at her when she last spoke; her eyes seemed to penetrate into her very soul. How did she know how Ramona felt when she was little; that she loved Jesus so much? It was a bit spooky. Or, or maybe, just maybe . . . no, no that was too trippy.

She fell asleep. Grandma Beckett was holding her on her lap, shushing her while putting a Band-Aid on her scraped knee. Grandma kept saying, “It’s gonna be alright, just alright sweetheart,” her sobbing comforted by the elder woman’s gentle voice and she felt, no, she knew, that everything would be alright. Tomorrow always would be better than today.

 

Mr. Beckett woke up slowly. He laid there not wanting to open his eyes. His concentration was a bit groggy as he tried to recall the day’s events. His daughter had stopped by; he remembered that. How did their conversation go? He really hoped she would get back to church but then he started to grasp the content and reality of what he had said to her. That part about how hard it was to keep her obedient to God with rules. Had that been the right approach? Well, he just wanted the best for her and to make sure she was ready for heaven.

There definitely was a rift that had developed in their relationship these last several months since Sarah passed. He really missed Sarah. Her absence left such a hole in his purpose and enjoyment of life. He knew she was in a better place and was waiting for him there; in heaven. Pastor Marlowe had counseled him to be sure he was ready so he could see Sarah again. That had driven him to a renewed enthusiasm for the Bible and being faithful to its precepts more than ever! He continued to seek God and consecrate his life and behavior so that he would be more Christ-like and holy.

Now with Ramona pulling away and the added pain of her having a baby out of wedlock seemed to tear the hole even larger. What had gone wrong? He had tried to be more careful to direct her and instruct her in the ways of God. Whenever Pastor would bring something from the Word, he made sure Ramona followed the teaching. After all, he was responsible and his reputation as a Christian father was at stake.

 

Becky and Jeremy stood in the middle of the bus station. This late in the evening it was quiet. There was a faint smell of stale popcorn lingering in the air that stole your attention when by day the busy activity would have. As there was hardly anyone there it was easy to see that Ramona wasn’t either. Jeremy strode over to the ticket counter. The only window open revealed an older gentleman sitting on a worn metal stool dressed in a gray uniform with a nametag, Robert G., proudly prominent on his right pocket.

“Sir, may I ask if you have seen someone?” Jeremy proposed.

“Ask away,” the man answered.

“Well, I am wondering if a girl, about twenty, or so, just bought a ticket from you?”

“Maybe,” he said. “What did she look like?”

Jeremy described as best he could Ramona’s physical features. By now Becky had joined the conversation and added more detail.

“I just sold a ticket to someone like that about forty-five minutes ago. ‘First bus out,’ she wanted, so that’s what I gave her.”

“Where was it headed?” Jeremy inquired.

“Rancho Cucamonga,” he said. “Won’t get there till late tomorrow some time though.”

“Where is that?” Becky asked.

“Southern California, just east of Los Angeles area,” the man in gray answered with an obvious pride in his geographic knowledge.

“Oh no,” Becky and Jeremy answered together. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yup,” Mr. Robert G. said. “No problem!”

As they walked toward the exit, the seeming finality of Ramona’s decision settled in to Becky. It looked like she was going through with it and there was nothing Becky or Jeremy could really do right now. Becky stopped.

“Jeremy, it looks like it’s a done deal for Ramona but I still think there is hope. God can arrange her circumstances to help her make the right choice about this baby.”

“Yes, I believe that, too. I don’t want her to choose to end the baby’s life but even if she does, there is still hope for her to find a way to trust God for her future. He is such a loving and forgiving God, isn’t He?”

 

Ramona woke with a start. The bus lurched over the driveway apron and into the parking lot of a small town. The flickering sign over the station revealed it wasn’t her stop. Brownsdale, it announced, Home of Elkhorn Tractor.

She got up to go inside to the restroom, as this was a 20 minute stop, and took Edith’s bag with her. Well, whoever that was that sat with her for an hour and a half! As she waited her turn she became curious about the bag. It couldn’t have had much in there: maybe some clothes and toiletries. She guessed she may as well open the bag. There could be something to identify the owner.

Pulling the zipper she reached inside. There was something soft and a small box. She pulled out the softness: a smallish blue blanket, like a baby blanket. Well, maybe there was something that made sense about that! The woman obviously had mental issues. She opened the box. It contained a baby pacifier.

Ramona was suddenly taken aback as her mind connected some dots. This woman, Edith, was no mental case! Somehow, she knew that Ramona was pregnant. It had to be that. And, Edith had to be an angel of some sort. That was the only rational answer to her disappearance and the strange events the last few hours!

Ramona forgot she needed the restroom. Dashing out to the bus she begged the driver to retrieve her suitcase. She had to get back to Maple Valley!

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October 21, 2014

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Storied Past – 9

Becky called the names Marlowe had given her. The second girl, Rachel, answered.

“Oh, I don’t really know where she could be. I haven’t talked to her since, well since she left church and kinda went into sin. She could be anyplace. Did you check that saloon, or whatever?” Rachel said.

“No, I haven’t, but thank you for the lead.” No answer on the third girl’s phone either.

“I’m not sure what to do now, Jeremy.”

“How about asking someone who does know?” he suggested.

“I’m sorry. You are so right! I’ve been a bit consumed by the crisis here and I forgot what I really should be doing first.” She bowed her head slightly. “Father, we really need some help here. Would you please show us, or lead us to Ramona? Whatever she decides to do next could impact her life forever and she needs some friends with her.”

“Thank you, Lord,” Jeremy finished.

“Duh!” Becky suddenly exclaimed. “Why don’t I just call her?” Her voice rose a bit in pitch at the end in a rhetorical question. Jeremy’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that already!” She scrolled down to Ramona’s number and tapped it.

 

Ramona nervously paced back and forth across the large waiting area at the bus station. The room was empty except for a sleeping pan-handler or two, and an older, sweet looking lady carrying a small bag.

A few minutes earlier she had purchased a ticket to some California town, Rancho something-or-other. She didn’t really care where she went. She just thought that any place in California would be safe and far enough away that she could start over. With the few hundred dollars or so she had saved, at least she could get a room somewhere, pay for the procedure and hopefully find a job before she ran out of money. If only she could stop this insistent, naggy voice deep down inside that was disagreeing with this whole line of reasoning!

She felt her phone vibrate and then ring. She looked at the number that popped up; Becky Moore!

“No, I just can’t talk to her right now,” she thought as she let it go to voicemail. “She will just try to talk me out of this.”

The monotone loudspeaker voice sounded bored as it announced the arrival of her ride south. She walked to the door indicated by the voice and waited. The sweet, old lady approached and smiled at her.

“Hello. You must be going on my bus, too.” Her smile was disarming and friendly to the point that Ramona couldn’t ignore her.

“Uh, yes, I guess so.” She kind of reminded her of her grandmother. She died when Ramona was only six years old but left such a wonderful memory.

“My name is Edith. Would you care to share a seat with me? I could use some company.”

Ramona really didn’t want conversation with anyone but maybe she would be kind and gentle, like her grandmother. She decided to take a risk anyway. Maybe “Edith” would go to sleep.

“OK, sure.”

 

Becky hung up her phone.

“No answer, Jeremy. Well, I can try again later. I don’t have any other ideas, do you?”

“Do you think she might leave town?” he posited.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t heard of any doctors who do that sort of surgery here in Maple Valley. Maybe she would leave. Let’s drop by the bus station before we head home. It’s only a few blocks away.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeremy said.

They left the coffee shop and walked toward the Pub-Trans station. As they approached the block where the station was, they had to pause while a big interstate bus turned in front of them.

“Oh, I hope she’s not on that one!” Jeremy moaned. They tried looking in the windows but they were all darkened by the tint and couldn’t make out any faces.

 

At that moment, Ramona looked out past Edith. Her heart nearly stopped as she recognized Becky waiting to cross the street. As the blood drained from her face, which must have had a look of horror as well, Edith asked, “Are you alright dear? You look worried about something.”

“I’m OK; I just . . . may have forgotten to turn the iron off. Well, no worries, it goes off after thirty minutes. I’m fine.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Well, where are you going; to visit some relatives?” Edith asked.

“No. I don’t know anyone where I’m going.” She suddenly realized what she had said and knew that statement made her vulnerable to more lines of questioning from this Edith lady. But Edith didn’t pursue the unintentional blunder.

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Edith said. “What a great adventure you must be looking forward to!”

The statement sounded like her grandmother, too. Come to think of it; she had a slight resemblance to Grandma Beckett. She was short, plumpish and smelled of lavender.

“Yes. It will be an adventure, I’m sure.” Ramona returned. The way she said it, she was sure she didn’t sound very convincing.

“I’m off on an adventure, too!” Edith shared. “It is completely new territory for me. I’m going to a retirement village down near the Oregon border. All of my things are there already and I am excited to meet my new friends.”

“Meet . . . your . . . new . . . friends?” Ramona asked haltingly. “How can they be friends and you haven’t met them yet? Doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, you ARE right. I don’t know them yet but I am sure I will like them. I have peace about my future and I know everything that happens to me will be special. I am so blessed!”

This sounded a little too disconnected from experience for her taste. She felt special all right; like, specially taken for an idiot and especially in trouble now! But blessed? All she felt was cursed; cursed to a life controlled by everyone but her.

“How can you feel so confident about your future? I’m not sure about tomorrow but I intend to take control of my future and do what I want to do.”

“Oh no, my dear. I didn’t mean I am in control. Usually it’s quite the opposite. I just mean that I am alright with what is coming tomorrow because I trust the process and who is actually in control. Every day is challenging but I am grateful for it. I meet new people; like you for instance, and I only want to try to be kind and love people because I know I am loved and valued.”

“Hmmm. I thought I was loved but it seemed like it was only when I obeyed rules; not just loved for who I am. And, I was not valued after I was taken advantage of, for sure!” She ended with an edge of venom in her voice.

This did not go unnoticed by her seat companion. “We have all been taken advantage of at some time or other,” Edith shared. “I married young. My husband was a charmer but he had a drinking problem. He used to come home and physically abuse me and the children. Then . . . well, he would fall asleep after he had his way with me. I had quite a painful time for several years.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ramona was sincerely moved. “What happened then?”

“Well, he met with an accident on his way home one night. I was so bitter. Not that he was gone but that I let him abuse me and the children for so long.”

“You don’t seem bitter now,” Ramona said. “How did you get over it?”

“Well dear, I don’t know whether you can ever “get over” an experience like that. The scars are so deep. But I met someone who helped me learn to forgive him and myself. That was the best thing that could have happened. The memories are painful but they are in the past. I try to live each day with a joyful spirit while being at peace with the future.”

“Wow! I wish I could be at peace with the future. I mean, I’m going to make my own future and it will be what I want but I don’t know about the peaceful part yet. There will be some trouble and hard times before I get there, no doubt.”

Edith looked directly at her. “Yes . . . there will be some trouble and hard times. But you will come through all of that just fine. Just remember how you felt when you were a little girl. Remember how your faith and trust was so strong in Jesus? Get back to that place and you will be peaceful.”

Ramona teared up. She glanced away out the opposite window to keep Edith from seeing her cry. Yes! She remembered a time when life seemed simpler. Her faith was strong and she used to talk to God a lot! How she missed those times, but they seemed so long ago and far from reality now. How many bridges had she crossed and how many were burned that might be keeping her from getting back to that place?

She discreetly wiped her eyes and turned back to Edith. “I just don’t know if I can . . .”

She froze in mid-sentence. No one was sitting next to her.

– To Be Continued –

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September 9, 2014

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Storied Past – 3

Ramona eased herself into the well-worn but comfortable sofa as Becky went into the little kitchen. Ramona looked around at the sparse but comfortable surroundings. There was a small table covered with a plaid tablecloth and two chairs. Family photos occupied three wooden frames on the wall above the table. A floor lamp and end table with some unopened mail completed the furnishings. To the left, past the half open window she could see the door to the bedroom. Becky lived much more simply than Ramona was used to. By this time Phredy had settled down on his pillow next to the kitchen door. Just then Becky returned with some hot water, honey and lemon.

“Here. This should help you feel better. It’s what I have whenever my stomach gets grouchy, which is pretty often since I . . . well, I don’t need to talk anymore right now. I’ll get some blankets. You can sleep right there on the couch.”

“That sounds good. I guess I am exhausted. I do have to ask you something, though. Are you one of those . . . Christians? Are you being nice to me just to win some goodie, two shoes points?”

Becky smiled. “I have heard about that kind of Christian, in fact, I used to be one. Now I guess I see being a follower of Jesus a little differently. It’s not about doing good stuff to impress Him and other people. For me, it’s about being real and loving all of God’s creation, no matter how badly they have messed up. I don’t mean “let it all hang out real” but I mean genuine and truthful real. It is hard to do but that’s why I have to let Jesus help me be real and help me love people. Does that make any sense?”

Ramona’s forehead wrinkled up. “I need to think about . . . to process this, I guess. Most all the Christians I know seem to have a Sunday face or one they use around other Christians but they really aren’t very accepting of people who don’t go to their church.” Ramona realized she had raised the volume of her voice a little too much for the time of night. She continued more quietly but more intense. “They act pretty content to have Holy Club meetings when just across the street are some broken and messed up people. Why can’t they just walk outside and use some of their righteousness to fix the neighborhood?”

“Wow,” Becky exclaimed. “There was a bunch of hurt right there on the surface, wasn’t there my friend?”

Ramona laid back against the sofa. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so angry for years that I just don’t buy it when Christians talk a good line about living perfect like Jesus but don’t do what Jesus did in the Bible. Am I wrong? Didn’t he go out and heal people and teach on the mountains and cast out demons and stuff?” Ramona shuddered at the visual that came into her mind of the naked guy in the Bible with demons hanging all over him. He probably got a group discount everywhere he went. But, she recalled, the next chapter in his life brought a huge, wonderful change that the whole town recognized.

Becky answered in a soft, confident voice that calmed Ramona down. “No, you are not wrong about that. I believe Jesus wants us to be like he was and is and be His hands and feet to all we meet. That mission might start in the church community but it really has to be carried out in the local, social contexts where we live, work and play.”

“That sounds different than how I was raised,” Ramona reflected. “I really did mean it when I said, Thank you. I’m sorry I raised my voice. It wasn’t against you.”

“I know. It’s OK. I should really let you get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow before I go to work. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Ramona laid her head back. How different this evening had turned out. Could she dare hope to think that God would have had anything to do with it? Wasn’t God angry with her? After all, she went to that bar. God had nothing to do with that. She agreed to go with Paul, or whatever his name really was. She drank whatever it was that knocked her out and she got knocked up. It was all her fault, all her bad choices. God would be right to be angry. He had warned her plenty and now she was simply reaping what she had sown. Justice. She got what she deserved. It was no one else’s fault but hers.

She dreamed fitfully; dreams of demons dancing all over her pregnant tummy. They were laughing and screaming epithets and curses, telling her it was over, she might as well die, kill the baby and die. God hated her because he hated sin with a perfect hatred and she had sinned, therefore He hated her. Twisted dark demons with sulfur smells and glowing fingernails tried to tear at her body, all the while yelling foul words. She tried to run but her feet were rooted in the mucky mud and she sensed they were sinking, sinking and being pulled down by a senior demon with an upside down face of Pastor Marlowe. Then the ground started to move, slowly at first, then a full-scale earthquake moving.

“Wake up, Ramona, wake up. You were screaming in your sleep.” Ramona jerked awake realizing it was Becky shaking her that seemed like an earthquake.

“Wha-a-at?”

“You were screaming. What in the world were you dreaming?”

“That’s just it,” Ramona retorted, “It wasn’t in this world.” She related what she remembered about the dream to Becky.

“That’s awful, Ramona, just awful. But the truth is, there are spiritual forces out there that are against you. They want you to be so discouraged that you give up; maybe even kill yourself. But you need to know that Jesus has good news for you. He loves you and wants to be part of your life.”

“I know that religious talk! Church has been most of my life all of my life,” Ramona said. “I was there all the time, every time they had church and music practice and I even got stuck cleaning the church with my dad way too often. I’m sick of church. Why do you think I’m in this mess? I’ll tell you, because I had to get away from all the church, church, church stuff. You can’t tell me Jesus loves me when he took so much of my life and forced me to run away from His rules and let me make choices that wound up with a baby I didn’t want. That’s not good news!”

Becky didn’t answer right away. She knew Ramona had to get it off her chest. Years of anger, pain, rules and her recent wrong choices had left her with hurts that deserved more than a hasty defense.

“I can’t possibly know how you feel, Ramona but I think I understand where your anger comes from. Life has taken a hard left turn for you after such disappointment from people you didn’t expect to hurt you so much. Maybe you can rest a little before morning.”

Dawn stole into the room. Ramona dressed quickly and waited for Becky to come into the room. A few minutes later she entered carrying her coat.

“Come with me,” Becky said cheerfully. “I have something I want to show you and then we can have some breakfast.”

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September 2, 2014

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Storied Past – 2

This is a story about failure, sin, pain and redemption. The names and story are fictional. It is ultimately God’s story because redemption happens through the faithfulness of God working in humans. They are amazing, adventurous followers of Jesus who desire to see His Kingdom influence increase until the reign of Shalom is a reality.

Storied Past – 2

“Hello?” The voice took on a human shape. “I thought I heard someone as I was walking Phredy.”

“Phredy? Who’s that?

“My mutt dog,” the voice returned. “Oh I’m sorry,” as she moved the light away from directly shining in Ramona’s eyes, now red from crying. “What are you doing here? Are you OK? Do you need some help?”

“I’m OK, I just, I don’t know. I just needed to get away somewhere and think.”

“You look scared, and cold, too. Can I take you somewhere and get some tea or something?”

“Well, I guess so; as long as I stay away from that church on Main Street.”

A few minutes later they found their way to Holy Grounds Coffee Company. Tying Phredy up outside, they went in. As they each cuddled a warm cup of tea, Ramona was still teary. Her rescuer looked at her with tender, inquisitive eyes but had said nothing since ordering at the counter. Ramona wondered if she should say anything, if this person would change her opinion about her and get all judgmental. She just couldn’t handle much more of that.

“I’m Becky,” her new friend offered. “What’s your name?” Ramona decided she might as well be civil. “Ramona.”

“Well, can you tell me a little about why I found you in such a strange place on a dark, cold night? I’m guessing you weren’t sight-seeing.”

Ramona really didn’t feel like responding but she figured she should say something since this person had gone out of her way to be nice.

“I . . . I . . . I’m pregnant” she finally blurted out.

“Well, Ramona, I’d like to help you if you’ll let me. Uh, when’s your baby due?” Becky’s voice was soft but contained a gentle strength that also conveyed genuine concern. Ramona shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t really want to talk about anything, much less her sin, but this whole thing was her fault, according to her father, and the problem was out there now so she’d better just deal with it.

Everybody Ramona knew, and probably some she didn’t know, had heard about the baby but nobody ever talked to her about it. When she was around they just whispered to each other looking out the corner of their eyes knowingly at Ramona.

“Umm, October” she replied. Becky waited a moment before she spoke. “From where I found you and the crying and all, I take it you’re not very excited about it.” Ramona hadn’t thought about that part of it. All she felt was guilt and shame and how this nightmare needed to be ended. The “A” word surfaced in her mind many times a day. But immediately the “M” word came screaming from the far recesses of her mind and she certainly didn’t want to be a murderer.

“No. No I’m not excited, I’m scared. I don’t really know who the father is and my father . . .” Her words trailed off. “Look, could we talk about this some other time?”

“Of course. Can I take you to your house? Oh, your dad . . . Look, I have a place for you for a few nights, if you’re OK with that.”

Ramona didn’t know. She didn’t want to intrude on this new friend’s generosity but she really didn’t have much choice. The bridge overpass idea was much less attractive anyway.

“That would be very nice of you but I don’t deserve any kindness. I screwed up, you know.”

“Well, we’ve all screwed up, Ramona. Thankfully, someone was there for me and loved me through my pain.” Becky led the way out of the coffee shop to her car. Ramona was surprised at herself. Since the horrible experience was confirmed at the hospital, this was the first time she voluntarily offered the truth about being pregnant; and to a stranger! Well, at least it was likely this stranger didn’t know her friends and would gossip. And what pain was Becky talking about? Did she have a baby, too? Maybe she had a dad like hers. In any case, Becky sounded like she had some kind of an idea how Ramona felt. That was comforting.

“I just have a small apartment but you can crash there. I work evenings except Sundays and Mondays so you can have some sleeping privacy. Have you had morning sickness yet?”

“Just a few times so far. It wasn’t as bad as I’ve heard but I definitely hurled.” They both smiled. Ramona started to relax. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She did need to talk to someone and Becky’s bedside manner made her feel like she could finally let some of her pain out.

A few minutes later they walked up to a modest apartment building. As they headed up the flight of stairs Ramona said, “Oh, I forgot. Thank you for this, and thanks for the tea. It’s been a while since . . .”

“No worries,” Becky quickly replied. “Like I said, I am here to help out. Someone showed kindness to me and changed my perspective on life.” They walked into the tiny but welcoming main room. Phredy was finally free from his leash and bounced around excitedly. “You see, Ramona, I try to be aware of God’s leading and He obviously led me to you!”

“Oh, no!” Ramona thought. She suddenly felt weak in the knees. “Another religious zealot! What did I get myself into? I let down my guard and got trapped by another one. Why was I so stupid? I’m better off dealing with this problem myself.” Fear rushed in and overwhelmed her for a moment. Must condemnation be her lot in life? And this . . . this baby, some people called it a fetus, whatever, this baby was really more like a forbidding, future death sentence. A dark thought clouded her mind for a moment. She could bring this whole thing to a sudden stop. Maybe that was the best. Just end it; maybe her and the baby. That’s why cowering under the bridge seemed so . . . appropriate. The railing above was convenient. She suddenly realized Becky was staring at her with a worried, almost frightened look.

“Are you OK,” she enquired? “You turned real white there for a second. It’s not morning, either. You’d better sit down.”

-To be Continued-

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August 12, 2014

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The Great Re-Quest

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” Helen Keller, The Open Door.

Ever been on an adventure? Remember the beating pulse; the looking forward to some new, as yet unknown thrill? Dictionary.com says an adventure is an exciting or unusual experience. It may also be a bold, usually risky undertaking, with an uncertain outcome.

Yes, there is a huge unknown factor that could bring more than surprise or thrills. It could bring notoriety, personal fulfillment, undiscovered knowledge, education or even wealth. Just as potent a possibility is the opposite experience; embarrassment, personal loss, danger, loss of a dream or even death. What is it about the front end of an adventure that quickens us though? You see, unless there were hope of some positive life change in us, we likely would not risk being thought a fool.

I was visiting recently with some close friends who adopted twins. They stood on the liminal threshold of hope for these new family additions presaging a major change in their family rhythm. They trusted that with God’s help and blessing they could provide love, security and care to a pair who never could have hope without someone’s open heart and a hand up. A few years after winning custody and two beautiful, grateful children the adventure still holds challenging, unanswered issues. They, as all of us do, must remind themselves that they embarked on this adventure full of hope, confident of God’s direction and hearts filled with love for two of His dear children. As an observer can only cite what he sees, I must say that I believe this adventure has served to bring them greater faith, dependence on and relationship with God.

A review of my own story places me both in the middle of an adventure and the not yet of a dynamic narrative still to be written. With hope we all advance into tomorrow, the great unknown, possessing only faith that our story will leave a Jesus legacy that includes trusting Him explicitly for the outcome that brings the most glory to Him.

Everything we read and hear about Jesus in His-story involves a dynamic life. Movement, not a static, congealed existence. At the intersection of crisis and a word or touch from Jesus, amazing, super- (beyond or above) natural adventures were manifested. These occurred wherever Jesus travelled and he was gone from home all the time, on his adventure.

“The church should be one of the most adventurous places on earth–the locus of all quest(s), the . . . Jesus community at the very forefront of what God is doing in the world.” Michael Frost; Alan Hirsch, Faith of Leap. They continue; “When we consider the biblical stories that have inspired the people of God throughout the ages, we find that they are stories involving adventures of the spirit in the context of challenge. In fact, that is exactly why they inspire.”

We must be explorers seeking new venues of Spirit activity. We must continually ask questions, for that is our destiny. When Christianity stops its quest because it is satisfied in the security of the known, it will die. The “known” is that qualified, quantifiable, corralled body of predictability that becomes stagnant and spoils; like the manna hoarded by the Israelites on that great forty-year adventure. Leaving the tamed with the timid, we must press forward to undis-covered joys and unrealized experiences on this adventurous quest; a quest of mission, which is our missio Dei.

What adventure lights a fire inside your spirit? Dream a little. Want to tutor some poor kids? Does mentoring men to be great men of The God Adventure and great husbands inspire you? How about joining a skydiving team to share life and Jesus’ love of risk? Get together with a group of senior ladies; listen to their stories and wisdom while you share faith and a skein of yarn. Take some friends with you to help clean up a trashy beach. Doesn’t sound spiritual enough? This generation loves a cause and wants to believe in something greater than petty, polarizing political or spiritual tiffs. They want what they do to matter and make a difference. And, don’t we all?

The adventure begins . . . now get out there, inspire others and really live.