Modern Day Zacchaeus

I was reminded as I read a good friends blog that one of the purposes of writing these stories and glimpses into our lives is that we never forget the things that matter and that impact us. So I will attempt to reach back into my past to log an event that to this day still makes me wonder, and still somewhat impacts how I think and act. So here it is.....


It was the summer of 1984. I know this because the Olympics were in Los Angeles and the Olympic torch was making it way across the nation. I was a courier for banks and small businesses just taking deposits and cancelled checks to a central processing center. Nothing big, no armored car just my new bright red Toyota Corolla driving around the streets of Orange County. It was the middle of the week and my route took me through downtown Fullerton at the same time that the Olympic Torch was supposed to pass through. To a courier time is money. There is always a schedule but I had the unfortunate luck to end up on Harbor Blvd just north of Commonwealth as traffic ground to a complete stop. I knew I was going no where and there would be hell to pay for being late when I got there, so I simply settled in and waited for the torch to arrive. As 15 minutes turned into 30 minutes, turned into 45 a crowd had started to gather and the mood had begun to pick up. A line of people began to form between myself and the side of the street the torch would be making it's appearance and between that line and my car my modern day Zacchaeus showed up. I was standing in the open door of my car, making me a good three feet taller than the crowd, and I noticed that this man, maybe 5 feet tall had begun to pace back and forth looking for a break in the large crowd that had formed. (I just got shivers reliving it) He asked me no less than a dozen time "Do you see it?", "Is it coming?" each time answering "Not yet", "I don't see anything yet!". Soon I began to see, off in the distance the beginning of the entourage for the famed Olympic torch. The crowd became electric. People had begun cheering and clapping, it was easy to be caught up in the moment as I forgot that I even had a job and was engulfed in national pride. As the torch drew near I began to notice my little friend had grown more nervous and even a bit frantic as he realized he would not be able to see the Olympic Flame passing by. His pacing became more desperate and his questions came faster, "Can you see it?", "What does it look like?" The noise of the crowd was deafening. I had a clear view of the torch and as it came within 20 feet of me, my modern day Zacchaeus made his final plea. He thrust his camera towards me and said these words, "I cannot see the torch passing, would you please take a picture for me?" I reached down, grabbed his camera and clicked off three pictures as fast as I could with his "non-digital" camera. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that my friend was no longer pacing and with his back to the flame and the crowd, was staring up at me as I took the pictures of something he could only wish to see. The flame passed within 10 feet of me, I was estactic. Out of sheer luck I had landed my car in the middle of a parade and was privy to an incredible wave of national pride. A minute later the torch was gone, the crowd had begun to dissipate and my friend could not wait to have his camera back to develop the film and finally see what I personally had witnessed. I handed him his camera, he thanked me and disappeared into the crowd. I climbed down into my car and immediately realized what I had done. I had been witness to a remarkable event. I had seen a simple flame ignite a city, much more a country with patriotic fervor. But Zacchaeus only saw me. He watched me as I watched this great event unfold before me. I was floored. I had seen the "light" and did not have the presence of mind or even courage to show someone else. I should have grabbed my friend by the scruff of his neck and stood him on the roof of my new car and told him "Here, you look, you see the glory that is passing before us!" But I didn't. I drove around the block twice looking for him. I was 90 minutes late to my next stop. I drove by again after work just hoping by some chance I would have the opportunity to apologize, to describe in detail everything I had been witnessed to. I never saw Zacchaeus again. By the time I got home I was visibly shaken. I had been given the opportunity, the direct opportunity to show someone the light, and I had failed. I still get goose bumps every time I drive through the intersection of Harbor and Commonwealth in Fullerton. I think when I get to Heaven I will ask God about that divine appointment and how I missed it. And ask, can I see that man, Zacchaeus so I can apologize and tell him how beautiful the light is.

True Love

How is it that almost every movie I watch has some kind of love story or romance. If it wasn't for movies like Saving Private Ryan or Predator or any Chuck Norris movie, I would say that our society is obsessed with finding and/or having true love. Well I saw it. It was a short brief glimpse into the heart of true love, but it was there, glaring obvious even to the point of bringing it to the attention of my co-workers. An elderly gentleman had fallen. He took a medicine that had dropped his blood pressure and before he knew it, he had tumbled to the ground in a parking lot and banged up his forehead. As all this happened his wife who had Alzheimer's sat quietly in a chair next to him oblivious to what had happened or even, no doubt, who it was who had fallen next to her. But as we evaluated him it was obvious his concern was for her. He was not hurt but for a scratch on his forehead and as we walked away I watched as he took the hand of his wife, who could not even remember his name, and led her to the car and helped her in. This man embodied the phrase "In sickness and in health". She could not even tell us his name, but there he was, taking his wife out, caring for her, directing her, and loving her . . . . truly. It is not man-made, it is divine and it is slowly becoming more rare every day. I for one am glad I saw this couple. It is a challenge to me. It was, truly, True Love.

The Day I almost Died

I have never landed this and this is the closest that I have ever come. We used this video to help the ER put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

I'm Back

I was told by a good friend that I was a bad blogger. I didn't even know that I was a "blogger" but I guess that because I have a blog I should probably write on it. So let me recap since the last blog entry...... well I graduated high school, wait that was too far back!!! Closer to this decade, I am working in Placentia and loving it. With the amount of calls, being a paramedic again and actually going to a hospital instead of handing a patient off, I feel like I am back in the game again. And it feels good. I only hope I can keep up the pace. Oh and thanks to that person who pointed out my blogger-insufficiency, I will be better.

ps and maybe I will figure out how to put pictures on this blog . . . maybe

To Live Like you are Dying

It has been a very long time since I have posted on this blog, not for a lack of what to say but no doubt out of pure laziness and an inability to sit down and write what has been on my heart and mind of late. Much has happened in the last 6 months but it is the latest string of events that has caused me to think again about what truly does matter in this short time here on earth.
In my profession (Firefighter/Paramedic) rarely am I moved by many of the things I see, but occasionally someone, or something crosses my path and I am reminded of the frailty of life and the simple promise that once alive, we all will someday die. I met a 35 year old lady with all over body aches and rib pain severe enough to affect her breathing. She had bone cancer that had moved to her lungs, then to her brain and was beginning to affect other organs. She was dying. As we moved into help, her sister, her mother and her two young children stepped aside unable to grasp the ever present question... Why? Diagnosed barely 6 months prior, their sister, daughter and mother was being dragged away from them by this disease called cancer and there was nothing they could do to stop it. They watched with blank faces as we gently helped her to the gurney, then into the ambulance and to the hospital. Their ability to hang on to the one they loved was like trying to grab smoke from a flame and hold onto it, nothing more. I could not help but think what goes on in her mind? What does she think about as she rapidly approaches her maker? Is there regret? Sadness? Anticipation? And then I hear my pastor talk about how would you live your life if you had only 30 days to live? What would become important and what would get left on the curb. This lady, our patient, was at that crossroads. She was facing the ultimate questions of life. When you are staring death in the face, where do your affections lay? What becomes important? I met this lady and outside of the miraculous grace of God, she will die, yet I am profoundly affected by her. How would I live if I truly was staring death in the face. Would I live it with regret, wasting the short time I have. Would I share with others God's love and grace as they slowly walk the path that I find myself running down. Would I love as much as I could those who are close to me. I don't know. I do know that my 35 year old patient faces these questions that I can only wonder about. My desire is to learn to live as if I had only a short time, showing the love of Christ that was shown to me.
I do not know what was the outcome of my 35 year old patient. I do know that she sees the end of her life and because of that she has had a profound affect on me.

Am I getting through?

I had a recent conversation with my wife a few days ago about our son. I had come home from work and my wife had sat me down and stated "We need to talk about your son" (Always bad when he's my son). She said that she had sent him to the store to get her a few items for dinner and while he was gone, a friend of hers saw jim in the parking lot of the grocery store. I put my head down and felt like crying. My initial thought was he was speeding and had hit someone or something, which would only push our strained relationship even further over the abyss. She then told me that her friend, without being seen by my son, had witnessed him helping an old lady, whom he did not know, put bags of groceries into the back of her car. I was floored, speechless, incredibly happy and proud at the same time. And he was not going to say anything about it. A random act of kindness that he sought no kudos or reward.
What possesses a boy who at one point will fight you every step of the way on something as simple as taking out the trash, to perform a complete random act of kindness and then never seek rewards foe that action. I would like to think that it is because of the struck calvanistic background with which I have raise him. But in reality I know that it is only the loving hand of God that compells him to righteousness and good deeds. My pride would love to take credit, but I can only give God the glory. I realize my son is growing up inspite of my attempt to keep him under my thumb. And hopefully the random becomes common as God works more and more. Good job son, Dad.

Sent from my iPhone

My first mobile blog

This is my first attempt to increase my ability to stay in touch and be able to put my thoughts and important musings down without even the use of a computer, my father and brother would be proud. But for now let me revel in the fact that I have crossed a technological barrier, without the urging or help of my brother.... Yea!!!
Sent from my iPhone

The Shepherd vs The Teacher

     I remember having a class back in my college days at Cal State University Fullerton, where I was struck by the teachers inability to reach his students.  Now let me begin that I was not the best of students in college (9 years to get a degree), but I remember this teacher in particular because of the "D" grade that I received and, much to my surprise the "D" grade that almost half of the class received.  This particular teacher had a idea that teaching that did not involve counseling or meeting with the students outside of the classroom, especially those who needed help.  The Professor then became to many of us in the class, merely a speaker and not a teacher.  His unwillingness to meet with students, to counsel them, and help them when they struggled became his legacy.  He became one of the most difficult professors to take not because his subject was hard but because he never helped beyond speaking from the front.  The investing into students would have to come from others.  

     

     My brother is just the opposite of this teacher.  I had the opportunity to listen to him speak at Loma Linda University to 2500  students and the bottom line was get involved.  Do something.  If he had spoken of compassion or caring and had not exhibited that in his life or ministry then he would have simply become a speaker not a shepherd or pastor.  As it stands now, my brother and his church in the bay area are feeding the hungry, ministering to the homeless, taking care of the single mother, loving the unwanted, not by waiting from them to come to him but by actively seeking out those in need, counseling them, feeding them, everything that Christ would have done had he lived today.  Our church has always asked the question, "Is our town better because we are in it?"  Are we willing to not just speak from the front but are we willing to meet the people where they are?  This is a challenge for the church as a whole including the leadership, are we willing to reach out and help those who need helping or are we content to become watchers not doers, "standers" not "movers", or speakers not pastors.  We have been blessed with "Pastors" who have come through our church, always willing to meet, counsel and lead not just from the top but also from the bottom.  May we never change from that and become simply teachers and not shepherds.  

A Modern Day Achan

      I have recently had the opportunity to study the story of Achan and how his sin undermined the plan and purpose of the Children of Israel's conqueroring the promise land. If you remember Joshua and his army, along with the people marched around the city of Jericho for seven days and on the last day through a miracle, gave the city over to the Israelites. The people of Jericho were so wicked that God ordered every person, animal and living being to be killed and nothing was to be taken and everything was to be destroyed, wiped off the face of the earth. But Achan had other plans. He saw things that he liked and took them and in doing so doomed Joshua's army to defeat against the people of Ai. The Children of Israel suffered and many died. Sin had entered the camp and until this sin was rooted out, Israel could not move forward. Lucky for them Joshua was a die-hard, commited man of God, sin was dealt with and the Isarelites were able to move once again.

        Sometimes I think how this is very similiar to my life. How much sin do I have buried in the dirt in the back of some tent in my life, and how often do I root it out and deal with it, not often enough. I then started to think that what would have happened to the Children of Israel if Joshua had not decided to deal with Achen and his sin? Would the Israelites still be sitting on the banks of the Jordon river, unable to move any farther than the city of Jericho? Would God have taken Joshua out of the picture and found someone else to do the job? Or would the people have decided that this all was not worth it and headed back to Egypt? How would "undealt" sin affect my life? Would I too become stagnant, unmoving and worthless to God? Would I become stuck in one place, unable to move off the banks of my sin and take the promise that God has given me. And on a greater scale, how would "sin in the camp" affect today's church? Undealt with, would it have the same outcome as the battle for Ai? Would the church become stagnant, unable to move forward? Would the leadership be removed or leave to give way to those who are not willing to compromise with sin?

     Joshua, or rather Achan learned this lesson the hard way, he lost his life. I would like to think that I would be able to "not" follow in Achan's footsteps but rather Joshua's so that the sin in my life would be dealt with and I could move forward. And finally, that the church would recognize that sin in the camp would leave them sitting on the banks of their "Jordon" destined to fight the battle of Ai with the same results time and time again until the leadership was moved to action or was moved to leave.

     

     The story of Achan can be applied to every aspect of today,  through our lives, our families and even our church.  Can we learn this valuable lesson and move on towards the promised land or or are we content to view God's promise from afar never truly dealing with sin in the camp.

October 6, 2008

The Beginning

This is the first of many thoughts that I would love to write down. My first thought is why the title 'The Long Journey Home'? I believe that we are born with a purpose and that purpose is to glorify our Father in heaven. From the moment we are born to the day we die we embark on a day to day, if not hour to hour and sometimes minute to minute adventure filled with happiness, joy, sorrow, hurt, pain, excitement, friends, enemies, aquaintences, kids, spouses, and a myrid of experiences that can either distract us or bring us to the knowledge that all the things listed above amoung a thousand other things can be an opportunity to Glorify God in heaven. This is our . . . my journey, to seek and at times simply recognize those things that God has for us that bring us to glorify Him.
My hope is these letters are able to chronical the events and experiences that come my way, sometimes humorous, or sad and even at times thought provoking but that is up to the reader. And in doing so be able to show my journey home.