4th of July - America the Beautiful!

10:55P

My Fourth of July started Friday July 2 when Pastor Rich texted me, excerpted: ".....is there any chance you would want to help me cook in the church kitchen tomorrow at 9 AM....making lasagna and wonderful vegetarian chili. I'm shopping for the food yet this afternoon so I'll be all ready at nine o'clock. I'd do it later but A's [6 yr-old grandson] basketball game is 11 AM..."

I texted back: "Why not! Ur favorite response, aka 'What's not to want to?' I'll see u 9:00A. Any utensils I should bring from home let me know, so as to keep my efficiency and talents, whoops...! 'freedoms!' at top speed and quality... Smile..."

Fast forward to Saturday morning July 3 from my journal:
08:50A-09:00A I drive to church, just pulling to the curb to park as Pastor Rich arrives behind me. He drives down the driveway to the kitchen door.
09:00A-11:00A I am the only one helping today, just veggie lasagna and veggie chili to do, but huge amounts for maybe 30 people or more. Pastor Rich has all the ingredients there organized in grocery bags on a stainless steel table and the frig. I open cans of spaghetti sauce, tomatoes and olives amongst canned carrots, mushrooms, and beans for the chili. I rinse and slice fresh yellow squash, zucchini, green peppers and tomatoes, dice onions and red bell pepper, separate broccoli flowerets. I saute veggies, do various procedures as Pastor Rich tells me what, when and how to do things. I'm pretty good, trying to do things his way today.
He seems tired, says he did wind sprints last night exercising, overdid, doesn't feel great. Besides, I know he has had a very stressful week. He asks once how he looks. I say, "Pale." He sits down a few times as he works.
We sample the chili. He points me to a bowl within view of his chair that looks like a highly polished bowl for a medium sized dog, on which I comment. No, he says, it's part of a nesting set (which wasn't in sight) (for dogs from chihuahuas to Great Danes, I guess....smile...). A spoon needing to be washed is my utensil, so I wash it, wash the dust out of the dog bowl and serve myself some chili. Pastor Rich has already sampled it earlier with another spoon, and had dropped a bean on his shirt in the process which he had pointed out as he looked down on it then. Now he decides he needs a proper serving and then he might feel better. He looks around from his chair, no bowls, nothing to eat from, (phantom dogs are all using the rest of the phantom bowls from the missing nested set), so he chooses a small non-stick sauce pan with lots of injuries that he can reach without getting up.
He says to me, "I hate to ask you to do this, but would you mind rinsing this out and getting me a little chili?" I say sure, no problem, after I ask, dissing the pan, "You're going to eat out of that? You might as well eat out of a can," I add, gesturing to all the empties from the beans, tomatoes, olives, carrots, et al. No, just my little joke. He is not amused. "Is this enough?" I ask as I dish up a medium ladle full. No, add one more.
Nothing elegant about the presentation, but the chili is delicious, just hits the spot. It perks him right up. He's outta there in five minutes at 11:00A to go to A's game as planned. Perfect timing.
11:00A-11:45A I stay on and clean up the kitchen some, bag the trash in the now-empty grocery bags, wash up all the bowls, utensils, etc including the nesting dog bowl and small well-used sauce pan. I dry some, let some drip dry. Pastor Rich will be coming back after A's game to put the cooling chili in the frig, etc, whatever.

Fast forward to Sunday, July 4 at 11:00A church service:
The entire service is dedicated to July 4 today, the music, the sermon. Today we celebrate not just our day of independence but our day of freedom. Our nation is an example to every other nation, every race, every religion, for opportunity, peace, wealth, for everyone, for freedom to make our own decisions, because our forefathers decided it was possible, and didn't quit. And so we must reject God being in charge of death, because He is in charge of Life! WE must decide that it is possible, and not quit, but commit.
Today's special music after the praise songs is from the handbell ringers who play "America the Beautiful" which I asked my friend S.R. to video on my iPhone because I am one of the bell ringers, the concentrating tall one in white in the middle. Since this is S.R.'s first commission on the iPhone with its fixed distance, no zooming, no close-ups or far-aways, it starts out a bit uninteresting involving his thumb or finger obscuring the action occasionally as he moves around but hopefully you will get caught up in our production led by Mrs. Pastor Rich. I believe this video will show up at the bottom of this interminable blog!

Fast forward to Sunday, July 4 The Baptist Church Picnic from 01:30P to whenever
We are at Mar Vista Park, Pastor Rich, pale no more today, in charge of his 31st July 4 picnic at the Park. We are all eating the lasagna and chili, mac 'n cheese, BBQ'd hamburgers, hot dogs, veggie burgers and veggie dogs ("What's in them?" I ask. Nobody knows, it's Mystery BBQ, but, I am assured, not meat. I pass...), baked beans, foil-wrapped corn-on-the-cob, salad, chips and salsa, red-white-and-blue cake, brownies, Marie Callender's peach pie and strawberry pie, Ralph's chocolate cake, dipped strawberries, what all else.
We are fellowshipping, which means talking while we're eating with our friends and their guests, a melting pot of accents and religions, as we move from the shade of the trees to the sunny lawn when the winds cool us down quickly as they jostle some clouds arriving overhead. Many hardy souls play games including the egg toss, volleyball and baseball, some play with the babies attending, some play with the two dogs enjoying themselves, some sit and talk, we all snack, a wonderful afternoon! Thank You, Lord! A truly Bonus Day!

ALERT: *Religious* *Religious* *Religious*

10:05P Santa Monica time

I guess I want everybody to know that today I'm blogging something that may be offputting to most of you, but it's very exciting to ME. I wrote it up originally in my real journal on March 11, 2010 journal at 7:55A that morning, to wit:

I begin my out-loud prayers. I want to record them as they happen but it's too distracting, so I only jot down the highlights and write them up afterwards. I am awake and sitting up in bed to pray, my eyes open, my mouth going. I feel the presence of Jesus being in the room with me. We (Jesus and I) verify that with immediate tears this a.m. I hate the manifestation of tears but they happen sometimes. I know He's here.

I feel power in my hand from the Spirit, the same Spirit and power that is in Jesus that He gave to me. I pull my hand out from under the cover, lay it on top of my left hand under the cover over my heart and lungs. I pray that I have the power through Jesus. And I know I do, we verify that with tears, too. I pray further for a friend's numb face and bony knob on the right side of her hairline, for God/Jesus to heal her. I pray for power in my own hand, and for healing in my heart and lungs under my hand as I pray, for regeneration for my friend to her "original blueprint" in being God's/Jesus' original creation.

I feel a peace, like I've not felt before or wanted, in this early morning. I like the feel of the buzz of the Spirit working rather than the peace of the Spirit resting! But I know we need both.

I see a dove outside on the corner of our flat roof grooming him/her/itself. I see standing with his back against the wood door open in my bedroom a soldier in desert camouflage fatigues? Combat boots, adjusting his weapon over his shoulder, not in haste or panic, shifting his weight from foot to foot, not waiting, maybe a sentry. I pray for him, I ask Jesus to give him protection as tears come to my eyes, knowing he needs that protection, RIGHT NOW. He fades out against the wood door. I flesh out the prayer to cover the urgency, don't know where the soldier is, Iraq, Afghanistan, I don't know why I see him. We are two separate beings, passing today through two separate dimensions, perhaps; we will never know our influences on the other, but we are united by Jesus' love and protection.

I pray for personal friends and acquaintances, for those on my "prayer list". I do not get sleepy during this prayer. Time flies, almost an hour. I pray for God to use me as I already feel I am of use. I "sign off" and start to write it up!

END of journal entry

I've thought many times in the past three months about this interlude in my life, wondering what it all meant, glad I wrote it all down that morning right away or I wouldn't believe it happened that way. Time has a way of softening your memory, of making the edges disappear, but I see the edges very clearly around that soldier, who I still pray for from time to time.

Thanks for reading! Whadda ya think? I have a lot of things happen to me like that. Am I bonkers, or is it a gift? Or both?

I have friends, a pastor and his wife, who spend a Saturday night with me occasionally. We call my bedroom Motel Half, like Motel 6? Not a lot of amenities, but they do get to sleep on the California king-sized bed, clean sheets, lots of pillows, yet they bring their own towels, and breakfast is rye toast or English muffins with some fruit, maybe a smoothie. Sometimes they bring muffins with them, and we chat over coffee ice cream Saturday night before bed.

I was at Home Depot in the gardening area one day as we planned the coming-up weekend on our cells. The usual, because they had other places to go in town Saturday evening before they came to Motel Half, "We don't want to use you...we hate taking your bed," though I never feel used because we are so close. I said, "Oh, I don't mind, that way you get to sleep in the room where I have my visions, like the soldier in camouflage that time." I could hear an audible gulp in my ear on the cell. "Just teasing!" I said, as I laugh out loud.