We had almost cancelled this vacation due to recent turmoil, an insurgent had been tried, convicted and executed about two months ago, five months after we had made reservations. Apparently he had accrued quite a following, but they were cowards who had dematerialized the moment he was seized; and now they were on the most wanted list. Their faces were on milk cartons and advertisements. Authorities fear they might attempt an uprising in spite of the absence of their once prominent political leader. Nothing has happened though these past fifty days to indicate the convicted prisoners friends were even still in the country. We, my husband and I, had been willing to sacrifice our plans and non refundable deposits for peace of mind; but we took a family vote and decided to brave the trip. We were relieved that we were nearing the end of our stay without anything ominous occurring. I wouldn’t feel secure until I was back in my own house. (With planes falling out of the sky and anthrax being delivered in the mail, I don’t know why my house should feel so secure?)
We's seen most of the sights and had a fairly good time in spite of the palpable air of uneasiness that hung over the city. Most foreigners, (since this is the nation’s capital and home of the United Nations, there was an abundance of foreigners!) were treated warily, even those that worked and lived here for years. All the main attractions, the Lincoln, Washington, Korean, and Roosevelt’s memorials, The Wall, Capital, Senate, etc. were heavily guarded and parking near anything was out of the question. Barriers were set up to prevent any size vehicle, down to tricycles and skateboards from parking and detonating explosives. So since our vacation required lots of foot work we might as well have gone to a health spa for the week for exercise. No way will any, suicide drivers hurt our national monuments, again. Homeland security was everywhere, a diversion? American patriotism was also flaunted everywhere with the red white and blue displayed on every corner, tote bag, t-shirt, hat and lapel we passed.
As my husband, daughter and I crossed the street in search of a touristy restaurant, (we didn't want the usual McDonalds, we could eat there at home, not that we did), a strong gust of wind descended from above. It started slowly then picked up momentum. Dresses flew up,(reminding me of the popular Marilyn Monroe photograph!) newspapers and travel brochures were ripped from hands, suit jackets blew open, sunglasses, hats and trash bounced about the sidewalks. The sound grew gradually louder and louder until it became deafening. Then fireflies appeared. No not fireflies. Sparks. The terrorists had attacked; they had done something after all, but what? Shot blazing arrows at the city? Maybe my former relief was premature.
My husband, acting heroicly despite his own fears, grabbed me and our daughter and rushed us to safety, only none of us knew where safe was. Foreigners from around the world who had come to see our national Capital were jabbering away with their theories of what was taking place. I wished I could understand them. Ah, American voices came through all the commotion, but no comfort was found there. No one knew what to expect, as we tried to avoid being hit by glowing projectiles. The blazes targeted a nearby deserted building whose lower level windows were boarded up. A sign on the front door proclaimed the edifice as condemned. Flames pelted the roof, but nothing ignited. We could see through the broken or absent upper windows as fiery tongues bounded about the room. People on the inside, (homeless? transients?) were jumping up and down, excited. They didn't appear scared, they seemed jubilant. They must be in on this bizarre attack. I envisioned the recent production of "War of the worlds" where aliens descended from above and took over the world. Could terrorists have made a pact with denizens of another planet?
I thought it really bizarre that the flames didn’t spray anywhere else. They looked like shot gun pellets and shouldn’t have been so precise in their destination. Not a single fiery dart missed the deserted building or hit anything else. Homeland security permeated the street, just as unsure as the rest of us. Firemen, police and ambulances poured in.
When the front door of the deserted building flew open, ragged men and women emerged, outcasts. All talking at once. All shining with….something. They seemed other worldly. Not reassuring. Again the “War of the Worlds” came to mind. Science fiction or prophesy? After all; Christian Scientists place their faith in a science fiction writer. Those of us who hadn’t run to safety on other streets emerged cautiously from our hiding places.
Dispersing themselves among us they proclaimed the sovereignty of some guy…no...Of the guy who had been publically snuffed out two months ago. And praising some deity called Jehovah. I scanned the crowds around me; everyone seemed to be enthralled by the speakers. Everyone was listening intently, but how. The strangers were all speaking in English. No. My daughter, the product of a biracial marriage, heard English in her right ear and Spanish in her left ear. Her brain was about to implode!! It seems everyone in the crowd was hearing their own language as well. How confusing. Someone was on drugs. Maybe everybody…except of course my husband, daughter and myself. The strongest herb we ever touched was parsley. Okay, maybe cilantro!
Homeland security was unsure what to do…the strangers didn‘t seem violent and hadn‘t broken any laws that we could tell. Wait, some of the guys had been with that criminal. Their faces had been plastered all over the papers for weeks. Police officers stepped forward with handcuffs and joy sticks at the ready. Firemen swarmed into the building to extinguish whatever fires had been ignited by the miniature comets. They exited with confused expressions. There were no fires to put out, except the fires burning in our hearts.
A tall, young , well shaved man stepped forward with his hands in the air. The self appointed spokesperson for the pariahs. He had been the last to run months ago when his friend was apprehended and tried. He asked for permission to talk before being handcuffed. The officers, still hesitant, gratefully acquiesced, thankful for the fortuitous opportunity to assess the situation.
Introducing himself as Peter, the man began a protracted dissertation of recent events, (what’s he trying to do, distract us with wordiness?) Some of the crowd disbanded, no longer interested in the happenings, attributing the disturbance to some David Copperfield type illusion. Others stayed and listened with cynicism printed all over their faces, waiting to see the weirdoes taken into custody. Others actually pulled out little pocket bibles and followed this “Peter’s” discourse, testing the waters of truth. My husband was hooked, my daughter was hooked. I was hooked. This Peter seemed to be genuine. The fact that we all heard him speak in our own language convinced me that something spiritual was taking place, and I didn’t want to miss the boat.
By the end of the afternoon, three thousand of us were added to the not-so-dead revolutionary’s group of followers, believers in a coming kingdom, unintentional partakers in the death of a Messiah, The Messiah, a messenger come to proclaim eternal life. The new additions included police, firemen and homeland security employees. Nothing we heard today led us to believe the United States was in jeopardy. But we were led to believe that each individual present was vulnerable to death if we failed to repent and give our lives over to a greater citizenship. A dual citizenship.
Boy, am I glad we didn’t let the recent events prevent us from taking this vacation! Now we discovered we were on permanent vacation. We became extra terrestrials, sojourners here with a home in outer space in some place called heaven. We were real participants in the War of the Worlds, spiritual versus carnal, demonic versus Godly. I guess the war of the worlds wasn’t fiction after all!
John 12:31
Acts 2
Eph. 2:19
Eph 6:12
Phil. 3:20
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Support Services Inc.
Support Services Inc.
The boss had warned us we’d be getting busy as the years went by; some of us barely had time to recover from our last mission before we were sent off again. I was manning the phones today, that job isn’t necessarily an easier one. Triaging is not the most relaxing way to while away the shift, not that actually doing the foot work is easier but it is more rewarding.
Word was spreading that areas under our jurisdiction were flooding from a rain engorged river, while other areas were on fire from a careless cigarette smoker. See second hand smoke really is bad for you! Wouldn’t it be nice if we could divert the flood waters to the blazing regions? That would be too easy. Then there were some hurricanes, and earthquakes in the forecast. Thank heavens we were fully staffed with competent reliable help. Work ethic s was at a premium; no one ever called in or shirked their duties. We had no sluggards or control freaks. Those had been disposed of early in the game, choosing to set up a competitive business that would go up in smoke someday.
The phones were buzzing up and down the long tables, and every caller had a real person to speak with, no automated responses here. Controlled chaos ruled around me, everyone swishing this way and that way as they responded to caller’s requests.
My phone rang. The caller ID registered a familiar name. This was a repeat caller, someone who called daily, rain or shine, fire or no, just to keep in touch.
“Hello, my name is Gabby, how may I help you?”
“Flood waters are filling my house and I have no way out! I’m trapped!” was Suzi’s panic-stricken reply.
“Don’t worry. Go to the roof and wait. I have someone on the way,” I assured her. She thanked me profusely with earnest gratitude before hanging up.
I knew full well why she waited till the last minute to escape. In plan A we had been evacuating her region for days before the turbulent river waters rose to this drastic level but her frail grandmother didn't want to be moved, she was born in that house and by God she would die there; and die she did (by God), of natural causes, (well in this day and age natural causes could be gun fire, car accidents, terrorist activity, or drowning in a flood but in this case it was heart failure) the whole while trying to convince her granddaughter to get the heck out. At ninety she was prepared to go, but her granddaughter wouldn't leave. Some one less devoted would have been on the first train out of town!
I sent plan B into action. As Suzi climbed the ladder to the roof I contacted the nearest motor boat. The only motor boat containing another person who had waited until the last minute to evacuate, claiming he would not abandon his house or possessions. Well, he changed his mind as the waters gradually whipped about his feet, then ankles and hips and he forsook greed and gave into surrender and defeat. The man in the boat was unknown to us. He’d never made a call to this number, choosing instead to verbally bash our services whenever possible, but he was going to receive a call today that would possibly change the course of his life.
Suzi heard the drone of an engine and waved frantically catching Drake's attention. Navigating past roof tops, light poles and wires, he managed to haul Suzi and her backpack aboard his little craft as the waters rose above her roof. Never mind all those lectures about accepting rides from strangers. Granny’s house was now history, only a record in a court house and insurance office.
"Thank God you found me!" Suzi forthrightly praised her creator as she lowered her self onto a soaked seat: all four sides of the boat see sawed up and down.
“God? God had nothing to do with this lady." explained her rescuer. "If you don't mind, I get the credit myself! God has left the building." Drake's anger and resentment at some imaginary super deity were just a little more than obvious to Suzi as he handed her his very orange, very large, very cumbersome, life jacket.
A helicopter flew over, dipping and rising, looking for people trapped on shrinking roof tops. The little boat was hard to see among all the flotsam and white capped waves created by the gusty full bodied air. The sun, concealed behind thunderclouds, was slipping into western horizon. The two occupants stood and waved recklessly yelling at the top of their vocal cords.( Like anyone in a helicopter could hear their vocalizations that high up through this squall.)
Clouds dumped buckets full of rain on Suzi and Drake as the helicopter veered off to the right. Suzi and Drake were on their left. Suzi sat down and stared at the helicopter’s rear.
“They’ll be back.”
Drake stared at her as though she was being transformed into something less than human. “You’ve got to be kidding! They’re going home; we’re on our own kid. ” Optimism is a great character trait, it’s a shame Drake didn’t have any!
Suzi didn’t say a word…out loud. Praying in the spirit she just held on to the sides for dear life as thunder cracked and lightening bolted in the hemisphere above her head. She had always connected rainy days with the Jesus’ return. They always made her expectant of the rapture. Now they would remind her of her granny’s death and passing on to be with the lord; that is if she made it through this.
The little motor boat puttered through the expanding river complete with obstacle courses. The floorboard was filling with water that sloshed in from the sides and came down from the skies. Suzi bailed water out as Drake attempted navigation. It was not a night fit for man, beast or fish. Up ahead something loomed out of the water. A cross. An enourmous wooden cross. The rapidly rising water was as tall as the four story Baptist church Suzi’s granny had called home.
"Look good, lady, that will probably be our grave marker." Drake spat out contemptibly as the boat bottom scraped across some submerged tool of destruction. A very unreassuring screech sounded over all the sounds of nature gone wild. Then the little motor breathed its last breath as phone wires strangled the blades. Drake decided now was as good as any time to give up. There was nowhere to go but down into the raging waters. "I've heard drowning is painless. At least I’ve never heard anyone complain before."
Complain. That's all Suzi had heard Drake do, but she wasn't giving up. She had too much confidence in past experiences to give up. She clung to her seat, trying to not be swept into the current, praying. She had no doubt that something wonderful could still happen.
“I have faith in God. He’ll take care of us.”
“Faith! In God! You have faith in some character that could let this happen? ” Drake seethed. “Give me a break. If he was going to save us he’d have done it by now. As it stands, we are in a metal boat, without a working motor, in an electric storm at night fall. We’re a advertisment for what not to do in a electrical shower. Our last chance for rescue flew over those hills. It’s getting chilly; we’re soaked to the bones. We’ll either drown or die of hypothermia. If God is going to save us, he’d better call in some favors. And soon.”
“Excuse me if I back away before lightening hits you.” Suzi said, sarcastically.
And then…Lightening struck. The enormous wood cross of Granny’s Baptist church was now firewood. On the heels of the loud sonic boom, the newly formed ocean became a blaze. The sky lit up like dawn. The pair was close enough to feel the heat that dried their clothes in nano seconds.
The helicopter’s whirly blades reappeared over the hill tops, adding to nature’s wind tunnel. The helicopter had been attracted to the explosion and resulting combustion and come to investigate one last time. The flames acted like spot lights placing Drake and Suzi on center stage. They had been found. Well Suzi had never been lost, but Drake....well, he was slightly speechless. Probably a first for him.
A ladder was tossed out of the helicopter, a man descended, tied Suzi to him, ascended, released Suzi, descended, tied Drake to him, and ascended one last time,(all this took more time and energy than expressed in this simple sentence.) Then a spark made good work of the little tired motor boat (it took no time at all for the boat to disintegrate when the gas tank reacted to the heat!)
All those in the helicopter gawked down at the magnificent burning cross, illuminating the area and dispelling darkness before they flew away to the school auditorium set up by the American Red Cross for first aide and nourishment.
Back in the Support Service’s office I hovered on the precipice of my cloud observing the retrieval of Suzi and Blake from the flooded city below. The woman standing next to me lowered the bow she had aimed downwards.
“That was a pretty good shot,” I praised. “And clever, I never would have thought of using the cross for a rescue beacon!” Lord knows, I thought, the cross has done its share of life saving over the centuries.
“No it wasn’t! I was aiming for that blasphemous jerk with my granddaughter!” Granny explained. “I have a feeling this won’t be the last time they see each other and she is too good for him!”
Great. I gently reached over and extricated the bow and arrows from Granny and returned them to their responsible owner. (The arrows were really lightening sticks, not available at a store near you). “It looks like we need to have a serious discussion about how things work here before you continue on through the pearly gates.”
Psalm 36:6
Math 5:54
Math 24:27
1 Cor. 1:18
2 Peter 2:5
The boss had warned us we’d be getting busy as the years went by; some of us barely had time to recover from our last mission before we were sent off again. I was manning the phones today, that job isn’t necessarily an easier one. Triaging is not the most relaxing way to while away the shift, not that actually doing the foot work is easier but it is more rewarding.
Word was spreading that areas under our jurisdiction were flooding from a rain engorged river, while other areas were on fire from a careless cigarette smoker. See second hand smoke really is bad for you! Wouldn’t it be nice if we could divert the flood waters to the blazing regions? That would be too easy. Then there were some hurricanes, and earthquakes in the forecast. Thank heavens we were fully staffed with competent reliable help. Work ethic s was at a premium; no one ever called in or shirked their duties. We had no sluggards or control freaks. Those had been disposed of early in the game, choosing to set up a competitive business that would go up in smoke someday.
The phones were buzzing up and down the long tables, and every caller had a real person to speak with, no automated responses here. Controlled chaos ruled around me, everyone swishing this way and that way as they responded to caller’s requests.
My phone rang. The caller ID registered a familiar name. This was a repeat caller, someone who called daily, rain or shine, fire or no, just to keep in touch.
“Hello, my name is Gabby, how may I help you?”
“Flood waters are filling my house and I have no way out! I’m trapped!” was Suzi’s panic-stricken reply.
“Don’t worry. Go to the roof and wait. I have someone on the way,” I assured her. She thanked me profusely with earnest gratitude before hanging up.
I knew full well why she waited till the last minute to escape. In plan A we had been evacuating her region for days before the turbulent river waters rose to this drastic level but her frail grandmother didn't want to be moved, she was born in that house and by God she would die there; and die she did (by God), of natural causes, (well in this day and age natural causes could be gun fire, car accidents, terrorist activity, or drowning in a flood but in this case it was heart failure) the whole while trying to convince her granddaughter to get the heck out. At ninety she was prepared to go, but her granddaughter wouldn't leave. Some one less devoted would have been on the first train out of town!
I sent plan B into action. As Suzi climbed the ladder to the roof I contacted the nearest motor boat. The only motor boat containing another person who had waited until the last minute to evacuate, claiming he would not abandon his house or possessions. Well, he changed his mind as the waters gradually whipped about his feet, then ankles and hips and he forsook greed and gave into surrender and defeat. The man in the boat was unknown to us. He’d never made a call to this number, choosing instead to verbally bash our services whenever possible, but he was going to receive a call today that would possibly change the course of his life.
Suzi heard the drone of an engine and waved frantically catching Drake's attention. Navigating past roof tops, light poles and wires, he managed to haul Suzi and her backpack aboard his little craft as the waters rose above her roof. Never mind all those lectures about accepting rides from strangers. Granny’s house was now history, only a record in a court house and insurance office.
"Thank God you found me!" Suzi forthrightly praised her creator as she lowered her self onto a soaked seat: all four sides of the boat see sawed up and down.
“God? God had nothing to do with this lady." explained her rescuer. "If you don't mind, I get the credit myself! God has left the building." Drake's anger and resentment at some imaginary super deity were just a little more than obvious to Suzi as he handed her his very orange, very large, very cumbersome, life jacket.
A helicopter flew over, dipping and rising, looking for people trapped on shrinking roof tops. The little boat was hard to see among all the flotsam and white capped waves created by the gusty full bodied air. The sun, concealed behind thunderclouds, was slipping into western horizon. The two occupants stood and waved recklessly yelling at the top of their vocal cords.( Like anyone in a helicopter could hear their vocalizations that high up through this squall.)
Clouds dumped buckets full of rain on Suzi and Drake as the helicopter veered off to the right. Suzi and Drake were on their left. Suzi sat down and stared at the helicopter’s rear.
“They’ll be back.”
Drake stared at her as though she was being transformed into something less than human. “You’ve got to be kidding! They’re going home; we’re on our own kid. ” Optimism is a great character trait, it’s a shame Drake didn’t have any!
Suzi didn’t say a word…out loud. Praying in the spirit she just held on to the sides for dear life as thunder cracked and lightening bolted in the hemisphere above her head. She had always connected rainy days with the Jesus’ return. They always made her expectant of the rapture. Now they would remind her of her granny’s death and passing on to be with the lord; that is if she made it through this.
The little motor boat puttered through the expanding river complete with obstacle courses. The floorboard was filling with water that sloshed in from the sides and came down from the skies. Suzi bailed water out as Drake attempted navigation. It was not a night fit for man, beast or fish. Up ahead something loomed out of the water. A cross. An enourmous wooden cross. The rapidly rising water was as tall as the four story Baptist church Suzi’s granny had called home.
"Look good, lady, that will probably be our grave marker." Drake spat out contemptibly as the boat bottom scraped across some submerged tool of destruction. A very unreassuring screech sounded over all the sounds of nature gone wild. Then the little motor breathed its last breath as phone wires strangled the blades. Drake decided now was as good as any time to give up. There was nowhere to go but down into the raging waters. "I've heard drowning is painless. At least I’ve never heard anyone complain before."
Complain. That's all Suzi had heard Drake do, but she wasn't giving up. She had too much confidence in past experiences to give up. She clung to her seat, trying to not be swept into the current, praying. She had no doubt that something wonderful could still happen.
“I have faith in God. He’ll take care of us.”
“Faith! In God! You have faith in some character that could let this happen? ” Drake seethed. “Give me a break. If he was going to save us he’d have done it by now. As it stands, we are in a metal boat, without a working motor, in an electric storm at night fall. We’re a advertisment for what not to do in a electrical shower. Our last chance for rescue flew over those hills. It’s getting chilly; we’re soaked to the bones. We’ll either drown or die of hypothermia. If God is going to save us, he’d better call in some favors. And soon.”
“Excuse me if I back away before lightening hits you.” Suzi said, sarcastically.
And then…Lightening struck. The enormous wood cross of Granny’s Baptist church was now firewood. On the heels of the loud sonic boom, the newly formed ocean became a blaze. The sky lit up like dawn. The pair was close enough to feel the heat that dried their clothes in nano seconds.
The helicopter’s whirly blades reappeared over the hill tops, adding to nature’s wind tunnel. The helicopter had been attracted to the explosion and resulting combustion and come to investigate one last time. The flames acted like spot lights placing Drake and Suzi on center stage. They had been found. Well Suzi had never been lost, but Drake....well, he was slightly speechless. Probably a first for him.
A ladder was tossed out of the helicopter, a man descended, tied Suzi to him, ascended, released Suzi, descended, tied Drake to him, and ascended one last time,(all this took more time and energy than expressed in this simple sentence.) Then a spark made good work of the little tired motor boat (it took no time at all for the boat to disintegrate when the gas tank reacted to the heat!)
All those in the helicopter gawked down at the magnificent burning cross, illuminating the area and dispelling darkness before they flew away to the school auditorium set up by the American Red Cross for first aide and nourishment.
Back in the Support Service’s office I hovered on the precipice of my cloud observing the retrieval of Suzi and Blake from the flooded city below. The woman standing next to me lowered the bow she had aimed downwards.
“That was a pretty good shot,” I praised. “And clever, I never would have thought of using the cross for a rescue beacon!” Lord knows, I thought, the cross has done its share of life saving over the centuries.
“No it wasn’t! I was aiming for that blasphemous jerk with my granddaughter!” Granny explained. “I have a feeling this won’t be the last time they see each other and she is too good for him!”
Great. I gently reached over and extricated the bow and arrows from Granny and returned them to their responsible owner. (The arrows were really lightening sticks, not available at a store near you). “It looks like we need to have a serious discussion about how things work here before you continue on through the pearly gates.”
Psalm 36:6
Math 5:54
Math 24:27
1 Cor. 1:18
2 Peter 2:5
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