My 51st Birthday

Time has gone by. I feel like I have lived generations of different time periods. I grew up in the 60’s when Kennedy was president and when he was shot. The Watts riots in LA. Martin Luther King being shot. A man being shot on my front lawn. The Wall family and foster home life where I lived with a ton of kids. My baptism at 16, My first computer at 35.

I watched man land on the moon on TV with Walter Cronkite on CBS. I went outside looking up at the sky hoping to see the capsule go around the moon. Now its the space shuttle program and Hubble telescope.

The Vietnam war raced by. I was still to young to be drafted. I was nervous as to what I would do if I had to be called up to military service. I seriously thought of skipping out and dodging the draft. I never had to make the decision.

Teenage life, long hair, girls, college, and moving to a California mountain community. Moonlight walks up Mt. Gorgonio in the San Bernadino mountains with Bonnie who impacted my life more than any friend I ever had. I learned to laugh again. She’ll be one I will never forget.  Hiking, rock climbing adventures, sliding down an ice shoot at Mt. McKinley.

Politicians year after year who never keep their word, trying to control our lives. We just vote them out and try again. I’m glad we can do it. What a great country God has given us. We are not free in this country, but we do have the opportunity to be free.

I remember near fatal accidents like when I spun in the snow nearly hitting several other people putting snow chains on a mountain road and all the times the hand of God kept me safe.

Marriage, first house, ministry and being a coach.

I remember holding you when you were first born. What a gift you are not only to us, but to everyone you meet.

My life has been anything but easy, full of adventure, failures and victories. One can’t do without the other. I’ve seen a lot, appreciate new things, embrace change easily and love simple things like a smile or planting a seed.

What a great life I am living. I am in better shape than I have been in 25 years. If I am fortunate I will live 20 healthy more years. I hope I don’t get to old or jaded to miss out on what life has to offer. I think about death more. I guess it can’t be helped. Did I do enough to make a difference?  Should I even contemplate whether it matters. I have to believe hope is a good thing. It springs new ideas, imagination and possibilities.

To my daughter. Make a difference. Hope springs eternal.

Live a full life,

Dad

For My Daughter – Our Journey Together

I know this video isn’t our family, but it doesn’t matter. I thought I would give you a glimpse of what I feel watching you grow up. I cry tears of joy in my heart as we go through our journey in life together.

Thunderbirds

Here is one of the kids shows I loved growing up.

What I learned about going to Church

I’ve been looking back on my religious experience seeing how I got to believe what I do today. Many of the church experiences I participated in hindsight were distractions and fluff vs having a pure faith. I had great intentions yet most of my time I did activities and tasks to create environments to attract people to fill up the church building so someone else could tell them about Jesus, They say a prayer and poof !!, a new Christian is born and a new number to tell everyone we as a church were growing. Unfortunately it seems we have been turning out lots church goers and volunteers doing the same thing I was doing.

If I can be honest. I don’t like being around church goers much anymore. Most of them are lifeless, boring and drain the life out of me. My unchurched neighbors seem to have more life in them. Their life challenges and struggles are the same as most people in church but they don’t hide behind religious words and smiling faces. I don’t want to convert people to say the almighty prayer and become church goers. I want people to experience the reality of Gods presence in their everyday lives, not a manufactured one most church environments create on Sunday.

I am just going to follow Jesus and with his help try to do what he did. .

I am fortunate to have wonderful Christian friends. They are dynamic inside and outside the church building and have a real and active faith.

To everyone else reading this. Let Jesus be an everyday part of you. Don’t ever settle for the status quo. It’s ok to go to Church to experience it and participate in the ministry it provides. Just don’t let it keep you from the real life God has for you.

The Ant in the Hole

I almost never got to go outside as a toddler. At the age of 5 I finally got to go out in the backyard with my brothers. They had dug a little hole (which seemed big to me)  I remember the feel and smell of the dirt. I was alive. This was exciting! Free at last. Ouch, my finger is burning. WHAT”S THAT RED THING! It’s an ant. Ow! Ow!

Tears welled up in my eyes. One of my brothers came and took my hand to to help.  My foster mother frustrated at the interruption came and brought me back inside.  There goes my moment of fun and freedom.  Stupid ant.  The ant died. Part of me did too.  It was along time before I got to go outside again.

My First Foster Home

   Social services sent my three brothers and I to our first foster home somewhere near Vernon and Hoover St. in East Los Angeles. People are paid to have kids like myself in their homes. The money can be good if they watch the expenses.

   The foster mother was a single unemployed mom who had a son named Isaiah. We almost never interacted with him even when we went to school. She purposely kept us separate from him. When we did see him he would tell us he was going to kill as many people as he could when he grew up. I’m glad we didn’t interact with him. He had his own big room full of colorful toys including cool lego’s. Our toys consisted of drawing paper, a GI joe, pick up sticks, chinese checkers, colored pencils and a a couple of puzzles. We had the sames toys for the full time we were there.

   My three brothers and I had a living space of two rooms which were connected. Within that space each of us had a two foot invisible barrier we were not allowed to cross or else we would be beaten, go to bed hungry (which we were all the time anyways), wrapped in a blanket or shut in a small dark closet which smelled like mothballs. I quickly became the model child real quickly because I was the youngest of the brothers. Most of the time we just sat on our beds or the floor next to it.

   The older brothers found ways to break the rules by a few feet. Eventually the older ones would begin to run away. The police who looked like tall muscular giants would bring them back. My oldest brother always found a way to escape,only to be dragged back again and again.

   We rarely were allowed to go outside or even open the window shades and look outside. If and when we did go outside we could only sit on the porch. Once in a while we could play on the front sidewalk. Under no circumstances were ever allowed to cross the street. We had to walk to school and came directly home afterward.

  Once a week she would take us to the Ralphs supermarket which was over a two mile walk. One highlight was crossing over the freeway on the walkway. The view and the noise of the freeway was exciting to a little boy like me.

   Once we got to the store we had to sit on the dogfood bags at the front near the grocery cashiers. It was a highlight for us because the Ralphs manager made funny noises every time he poked us in our belly button.

Superman!

    Superman was my first comic book super hero. In the world I lived in I wanted to be like him because somehow he could always make things right. Where truth and justice would reign. I could fly and be free and almost nothing could hurt me.

My Third Memory

   I was on a linoleum floor in the evening surrounded by visitors at my first new foster home. Someone handed me an egg carton while they chatted. I was so fascinated by it and completely focused on it. I was in a state of pure joy as I examined and felt this new toy.

   The moment was shattered by a stern women with a loud and angry voice who snatched it out of my hands. I reached out for it and cried bitterly. I did nothing wrong. It sparked a sense of anger and helplessness in me.

   When I think about it today I still feel that emotion. It was a powerfully strong emotion for me. This may where I got my understanding of injustice. I was surrounded by many people and no one came to my rescue.

   It was wrong to be punish for having fun with an empty egg carton. It was also wrong to treat people this way. I knew it instantly then. I still know it today. I would characterize this as my first direct encounter with evil.

This was the beginning of what my life would be for the next 10 years.

Born in the Spring

I was born in May of 1958, the younger of 4 sons my mother bore. It is said I was the only natural birth son she had. A photograph and stories is all I know about her. A couple of encounters is all I know of my dad. He was a merchant marine and traveled around the world. That is no life for a family man and thus he never became one. I don’t ever remember having an emotional bond with them. I do however remember a quiet presence that was always with me. In the shadows, in the light. always there. I think my family knew this. I know my aunt did. I was different somehow. They knew it and I would later come to realize this as well.
I was not to be part of their lives and they were not going to be part of mine. I was born for a purpose, I just didn’t know what it was.

After 47 years it’s time to tell this story though I don’t know to what end this tale will tell, what seed will it plant, what awareness will it bring.