Pink Tape

How long will you forget me, Lord? Forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long will I be left to my own wits, agony filling my heart? Daily? How long will my enemy keep defeating me?…
But I have trusted in your faithful love. My heart will rejoice in your salvation. Yes, I will sing to the Lord because he has been good to me.

Psalm 13:1-2, 5-6 (CEB)

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Finding joy in the past. Sometimes we walk through the dark. And what carries us through? The knowledge that God has been good in the past. God has carried us through before. God has been faithful. And even when we can’t see God, we can trust in God’s faithfulness to us. It is imporatant to look back and reflect on God’s goodness in our lives. To hear more about finding joy in All of life, click here to watch Sunday’s service:

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Have you wondered how Kathy’s summer ended? Rev. Dr. Kathy Lopez has shared some meaningful & insightful reflections with us this summer. Here is how the summer ended:

I’ve lived most of my life in places where hurricanes and tornadoes threaten their destructive forces on a regular basis. I’ve had to hide in basements and clean up after floods, downed trees, etc. I have, however, never been close to a wildfire. In the span of just over a week at the end of July, I lived through both. Since Al and I escaped the damaging effects of both, it’s fast becoming a funny story we’re telling people about how we spent our summer. (Before I move on, let me say that in both instances, some people did not escape alive and/or with their property intact. To them and their families the Stone Canyon Fire and Hurricane Debby will never just be funny stories. I thank God for our safety, and I pray for God’s mercies on those who were not spared.)

After all these years and all these storms, I know what to do when a hurricane and/or tornado watch is in effect. I know the difference between a watch and a warning and where to go in my house if I hear a tornado coming. I know never to open my fridge if the power’s out, and who to call if I need a hot shower. I have a massive supply of candles, and Al always makes sure to keep the ditches around our house clear of debris. As many of us who live in this part of the world, I am prepared for a hurricane and perhaps also just a bit cocky because I’ve lived through so many.

None of this was the case for me a few weeks ago when I was alone in our Colorado cabin and got a phone call from Al, who was running errands in town. “I see flames on the mountain. I’m turning around and coming back to get you so we can evacuate.” Not a call I was expecting, that or any day. We had already begun the process of packing to return to North Carolina, but I was, for the first time, confronted with the real-time choice of what to take and what to leave behind. To take: Me and Al, the dogs, our electronics and medicine, and my jewelry. Then, thankfully, as the fire did not immediately spread toward us, we had time to pack up everything we had been planning on taking home anyway and headed down the mountain.

Watching a wildfire is like the most boring and horrifying movie you will ever see. We couldn’t look away. As a matter of fact, we parked just outside the evacuation zone where we could still view our cabin and the fire’s progress. It felt akin to what I imagine a war zone would be like for a civilian. We could see the flames and smoke, white when vegetation was burning, and black when a structure had caught fire. We watched as all sorts of official vehicles passed us on the way up the mountain and saw planes overhead dropping water and slurry on the fire, flying so low we could see their shadow on the ground as they passed overhead. We were given water and comfort by our neighbors and then left with them when they extended the evacuation zone.

As we were driving past the police barricades, we were stopped by a police officer. Not sure what we’d done, Al rolled down his window. The officer reached on top of the truck and handed us the dogs’ water bowl that we’d forgotten and left on the roof of the car. As he handed it to us through the window, the look of compassion on his face spoke deeply to me. In other times of distress, I have witnessed the looks of sympathy and pity people have bestowed on me. It can feel alienating rather than reassuring. At times I have seen fear in others eyes, as if my suffering might in some way spread like a contagion to them or their families. But when that police officer looked at us through the car window, his compassion felt like a prayer, and it gave me strength.

From the nearby town, we stared at the top of the mountain for a couple more hours looking for any change that would indicate where the fire might go next. When the wind changed direction, as it did several times throughout the day, we were either encouraged or terrified. I took to looking back and forth between the mountain and a nearby flag trying to read the wind. As twilight came on we drove away, catching sight of the fire still burning on the far side of the mountain lighting up the night sky.

The police used yellow caution tape to mark the roads and neighborhoods that were part of the evacuation order and also stationed police at each major intersection to stop anyone from entering the evacuation zone without permission. However, the next day a kindly police officer allowed us to go back up to our cabin for a few minutes to gather up whatever else we left behind.  As we drove up the mountain past our neighbors’ houses, I noticed that there was also a lot of pink tape and realized that the pink tape was a sign that the house had been checked by police and was empty of people. You cannot see our cabin from the base of our driveway, but sure enough, there was a piece of pink tape tied to a rock at the turn. When the cabin came into view there was more pink tape flying from the front gate. Walking on to the back porch Al turned to me in confusion and asked if I’d moved the porch furniture before we left, since all of it was stacked as far away from the cabin as the space allowed. I realized that not only had at least one officer driven all the way to our house to make sure there were no people inside, they had also done some basic work to protect our property. And they had done this for every house in the neighborhood!

All in all, it was a very surreal and scary two days. The fire burned over 1500 acres, destroyed five buildings, and one person lost their life. It is being investigated by the ATF as arson as they are convinced that the fire was human caused, whether intentionally or not. As I reflect on the events of the Stone Canyon fire, it’s easy to talk about the extraordinary grace of God after we’ve lived through such events. But that’s not what my mind has focused on as I remember everything that happened. No, what I see most clearly in my mind’s eye is the small, easily overlooked moments of grace that carried me through:

• After looking at my feet our neighbor made a joke about how I must have run from the fire so fast that I forgot to wear matching shoes. (I broke my foot several days before the fire and was wearing a special boot on my left foot.)
• The look on the police officer’s face conveying his concern for us as we tried to drive off with a dog bowl on the top of our car.
• The individuals who drove toward a fire to make sure Al and I were safe (along with all our neighbors), even though they didn’t know us and likely never will.
• To this I must add the firefighters who came from all over Colorado and the pilots who likely came from all over the US and even internationally to do some of the craziest flying I have ever seen (and my Dad was an Air Force pilot so I’ve been to my fair share of air shows).

That day, I saw afresh one of the deep truths of the grace of God. Sometimes it is mysterious and breathtaking, but not always. Sometimes God’s grace is formed through the individual decisions of multiple people to show up and help. For many of the individuals who helped that day, it was a job, I know, but it was not an easy day for anyone who was there and downright dangerous for many. They showed up to help, and as far as I witnessed, they brought with them compassion and grace. It was beautiful to witness.

 It makes me wonder, though, about us as a church and as the kingdom of God. I’m reminded how much our daily choices matter. Will I be the face of grace for someone today? Am I willing to “check for the pink tape” in someone else’s life? We all have our days, good and bad, I know. I also know that the people we met that day very likely don’t remember us or realize how much they helped us, and that is how true grace works. They left a permanent impression on me, and I thank God for each and every one of them. Moving forward, my prayer is that I can increasingly reflect the grace of God to the people I encounter. Sometimes I’ll get it wrong; sometimes I’ll get it right. Most of the time, I likely won’t know one way or the other, and that’s ok. There is no scorecard in the kingdom of God. I just need to be the best child of God I can be and leave the rest to God.

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Upcoming Events

August 25 – After Church Fellowship Meal (Pizza)
August 30 – 5:00 pm Volunteers needed to help serve dinner to Midway HS Band Student at Midway HS
September 8 – 6:00 pm 100th Anniversary Organ Concert in the Sanctuary
October 13 – 10:30 am 135th Anniversary/100th Anniversary of Sanctuary Building/Homecoming