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My daily commute leads me through Golden Gate Park. It is a splendid way to begin my day. Surrounded by the greenery is a treat before I hit the rows and rows of houses in the Sunset District.
When the weather is pleasant I’m on my motorcycle. That is a treat in itself but even more so during my commute through the park. The curiosities are endless.
A large pond is built up on one of the rises as I enter the park. Even at the earliest morning hours that body of water is surrounded by a variety of people. I am entertained by them all.
A collection of remote controlled boaters test their craft. Sailboats, motorboats and experimental vessels putter around the waters. There is a deep personal pride felt by the craftsman who built these model watercraft.
Nearby a group of aged Asians flow in unison with their Tai Chi swords. Like movements in slow motion as if they were submerged in water gradually shift from one set to the next. Their center is maintained and their fluidity is striking.
I round the bend and have to pause as a flash of bicyclists pedal past. They are dressed in a rainbow of colors with eyes fixed far a ahead and legs pumping like pistons inside of an internal combustion engine. No one is depressing their brakes but instead they are reaching for higher efficiency of speeds.
When it is clear I drive past the Bison compound. A 30 acre corral surrounded by a modest cyclone fence marks the territory of the American Bison. Just inside the major fencing is the real deterrent.
An electrified fence discourages these powerful beasts from venturing to closely to the peremeter fence. By weight and strength alone these animals could do a great deal of damage to zinc coated mesh. But, a few close brushes with the electrical shock would disuade them from being too aggressive.
By now, I am just few hundred yards from exiting the park on the South side. The eucalyptus fragrance is rich. It reminds me of the comfort that comes from childhood colds and the Vicks-vapo-rub that made breathing easy again.
I swing pass walkers enjoying a brisk stepping program. They are conversing actively with each other. My smile is met with returned countenances of cheer.
Dog walkers, joggers, skaters and other exercise groups abound. There is life in this green area. It invigorates my senses to be a part of them.
photo credit: google image
My friend Dave is a pilot for Delta Airlines. We have talked about his profession for years. Whenever the world of aviation brought a curiosity to my mind we would chat about it.
Over the last decade I always wondered if I would ever get to fly with him. But, for the most part his assignments are to Captain a plane heading for Europe. Those jumps from Detroit make a lot more sense.
But, about once a year he hops over to the West Coast and flies to Asia. Providentially, his once-a-year trip coincided with my very first trip of a my life to China. There are no coincidences in this life.
Dave and I made this discovery on Sunday night. Over the phone we revelled in our anticipation of being on the same flight together. I was jazzed and so was he!
Once I was at the airport I really didn’t expect to see him. The amount of work to check out the plane before take off is substantial. I knew that he would be busy.
But, I was surprised to hear my name called from the check-in desk. I picked up my things and walked to the check-in desk. The attendant smiled and commented, “Your friends with the Captain?” “Yes,” I concurred. “He would like you to come up to say, ‘Hello,’ once you get settled in your seat.”
We had a great reunion. Dave introduced me to his entire crew. We laughed, caught up on news, talked about our kids and teased each other like good friends do.
Five hours into the flight Dave came back to the cabin and called me up to the galley. It was his break time and we talked some more. On this long ten-hour flight from San Francisco to Tokyo this kind of fellowship was a welcome diversion.
We were both amazed that on his once a year flight to Asia and my first flight to China that we landed on the very same day. Who could have guessed that would have happened? Maybe God loves the details in our lives as much as the big picture that He paints for our routine.
At the end of the flight Dave invited me into the cockpit. All of the dials, knobs, slides and buzzers had me confused. I’m glad that he knows what they’re all to do. I am blessed to have friends in high places, literally!
photo credit: brucefong photography
Sunday I had to return home and pack for my overseas journey. Preparations have been ongoing for months. The lectures have been developing over time.
The topic of Life Around Ancient Galilee is intriguing. I look forward to tracing the historical events at the turn of the first millennium. Those lives were simple, yet full of hope. They were deeply devoted to family and linked solidly to generational legacy.
But, to get there I have to arrive at the airport three hours early. Once my bags were packed, unpacked and repacked, readjusted and repacked again, I was ready for my commute to the building by the tarmac. Amazingly, the international terminal was nearly vacant.
I sailed through check-in, passed through security without incident and suddenly looked at my watch stunned that I now had three hours to wait. Slowly I scanned for a quiet place to sit and relax. My choice was next to an electrical outlet.
Settling in I pulled out my laptop and booted it up. My camera is waiting by my feet, my back pack is leaning against it and my jacket is off. Hope sprang up with cheer when my blog page appeared.
Now, I am redeeming the time. Time is a gift. Using it well puts meaning into life. You are part of that meaning for me.
I have plenty to read on my many hours of travel today. There is a file of work that is my back pack too. That is one project that I will get to soon.
Thinking is an exercise that will occupy my time as well. There is plenty of dream time during a trip like this. People that I love, disciples that I want to impact, relationships that I want to build and big ideas that I want to embark upon all are vying for the first place in the queue of my mind.
People and the surprise of meeting them along the way will mark my journey as well. Who knows who I will meet along the way. Nothing fascinates me more than interesting people.
Then, the herding will happen. The closer we get to boarding the antsy feature in people will overtake sensibility. All of our seats are reserved. Hurrying on will not change that. But, we all hurry to stand in line. At least one public speaker will be entertained.
photo credit: google image
Today I hop on a plane for a great adventure. I go to China for the first time in my life. My plane departs from San Francisco to Tokyo then to Shanghai.
When I arrive one of my former students will greet me. He has asked me to deliver five lectures on the topic of Life Among Early Civilizations in the Galilean Region. It was part of my specialization while doing post-graduate work.
I have been to the Lake of Galilee three times. While I was there I gathered a good selection of information about first century life around the shores of those waters. Water is the source of life and this amazing lake provided that vitality for many people and nations.
During my stay I will take in a few sites. Mostly, I will enjoy making new friends. This is the land of my ancestors and I am looking forward to stepping on to soil where my forefathers once walked.
I was excited enough just to have the privilege of this trip. However, I was in for another treat. It came in the form of a telephone call.
My friend Dave left me a message. He said that he was in town and hoped to get a chance to visit. I called him right away.
When he answered we excitedly caught up, talked over each other until we settled down. Then, I asked what he was doing in town. He told me that Delta had flown him out for the night in preparation for his flight to Tokyo in the morning.
My mind began to spin with the possibilities. I told him that I was flying to Tokyo in the morning. Delta is his carrier and my frequent flying company.
When he checked his schedule and I checked mine, we were ecstatic! Dave will be the pilot of my plane! Or perhaps more to the point, I will be a passenger on his.
On this very long and tiresome journey I now have two great incentives. One is the destination. I am jazzed about visiting China. Then, I can also enjoy the journey. For I have a very good friend who will be escorting me along the way.
My journey will prevent me from posting for a week. I will miss all of you. Come by and read some stuff from a while back. I’ll rejoin you soon!
photo credit: google image
Tuesday had been a long day. When I climbed the stairs to our apartment and sat down I was exhausted from a very busy calendar. Yvonne and I ate a wonderful dinner that she had prepared. During our meal we shared the details to each other about our day. It was indeed full.
Neither of us had much energy left. But, if we stayed at home all night long it wouldn’t have been fair for her. Cabin fever is the same whether there is snow outside or not.
We still had 40 minutes of daylight left. So we jumped into the car and pointed it north. I had been told that the Legion of Honor was a beautiful sight. That was my curiosity.
Slowly we entered the park just a block and a half away from our home. The narrow road snaked its way through the golf course and up to top of the hill. The structure was eye-catching, stately and magnificently situated in a beautiful setting.
A fountain and pool drew my attention to the north. That’s when I gasped for breath. Through the trees I could just get a glimpse of the majestic landmark of our newly adopted city.
I double-checked what I was seeing. Then, with confirmation I exclaimed, “Wow! You can see the Golden Gate Bridge from here.” As we wound our way down the north side of the park the grand bridge became more and more dominant with the unfolding landscape.
Framed by trees, rugged cliffs, the vast expanse of the mighty Pacific to the West, this triumph of engineering stood solid. Powerful currents of ocean water swept under its span to usher in hordes of migrating fish, sea mammals and local sea life in and out of the Bay. Seagulls sounded their staccato calls to give an ever-present reminder that we were near the sea.
We parked our car. Our windows came down. Now, we not only could see and hear. With the breeze whisking through our automobile we could also take a deep breath of the salt air that makes this area very very special.
For a few brief moments at the end of a long and exhausting day we enjoyed taking in our new environment. God had given to us this splendid park as just a part of it. It is just like part of our backyard. What a treat!
photo credit: google image
San Francisco introduced me to a new term. My pastoral staff clued me into this courious nomenclature. It suits the palate just fine.
A stamp collector is called a Philatelist. A flute player is called a Flautist. A weatherman is called a Meteorologist. A specialist in insects is called and Entomologist.
So, the question is what do you call someone who likes to food? This is not simply a matter of discussing who likes to eat. We all like that. This is a specialization.
If someone finds food so captivating that it is a hobby, then what’s the name for that kind of fascination? Most likely the name is a grass-roots declaration that maybe a new entry for the Webster Dictionary. By sheer precision and popularity this term could be one of those landmark history-making words of the century.
The term is “foody”. It identifies the hobby of eating. There is some dispute whether it refers exclusively to dining out at restaurants. Or there are some who claim to be foodies and include their own culinary experimentations.
The latter make a good case for their cause. They explore the variety of meal-makers in the great San Francisco area. Then, they try to creatively blend in the flavors and presentations that they experience as they do-it-yourself at home for friends and family.
My enthusiasm for their argument is tempered by my lack in that skillful practice. I only cook for survival. There is no art or interest on my part to orchestrate anything in the kitchen.
Perhaps I am redeemed however, since I am married to an excellent cook. Yvonne has prepared some of the finest meals that I have ever presented to my palate. Our guests have raved over her cooking.
When we venture out to explore local restaurants, she is regularly contemplating flavors, textures, combinations and presentation. I just enjoy the food and agree with her assessments. Likely my greatest contribution to her culinary adventure is insisting that we order different selections from the menu. That way we can each try each other’s choices and get a much broader perspective.
We have been amazed at the variety of foods in our new home city. The options for eating seem endless. Just to keep our options straight we categorize foods according to ethnic origin as well as price variation. But, overall, it’s measured by “um um, good!”
photo credit: google image
Monday is my day-off. Every chore and errand runs through my Monday schedule. For six days previously, I relegate the urgent needs of life to that day.
At the time when I schedule chores for Monday it feels very good. Afterall, if I assign a task for Monday and it’s only Tuesday, I can forget about it for a week.
But, like a bad tooth, it only keeps getting worse. It won’t go away until you take care of it. When the chore is complete, then, things get better.
This was my first Monday off since starting my new position. A lot got pushed to this day. It has been a bit overwhelming.
Just to make life easier I scheduled our internet provider to install our wireless router today. It was the first opening that they had since we moved here. We have had to be very creative getting to the world-wide web in the past week.
The parking in San Francisco is challenging. Street-parking is a premium. There are more cars in our neighborhood than there are spaces that are available.
If we go out at night it’s very difficult to find a place to park when we return. A circle route in our neighborhood will usually turn up something a couple of blocks away. That made unpacking boxes a high priority. If I succeeded at that then I would be able to park Yvonne’s car off the street.
The Chinese consulate also scheduled me to return on Monday to pick up my visa. After all of my waiting last week, I would not miss that appointment. I was determined to obtain my visa.
Our garage was packed to the gills with stuff. A couple of times I was sure that some of you were sneaking in and adding boxes to my pile. It was like the mountain of cardboard never seemed to shrink.
I was also suspicious that some of your were repacking boxes that I had unpacked. Weariness and fatigue was setting in so I was growing delirious. Such paranoia on my day-off!
But, at the end of the day our wireless was installed, cable TV was connected, Yvonne’s car was parked in the garage and my Chinese visa was in my hands. It was a very good Monday. Hmmm…now I’ve got to get my taxes done. How many more Mondays do I have to get those done?
photo credit: google image
Saturday was my first weekend since starting my new position in San Francisco. I was up early before 6AM. Stealing out of our bedroom, I headed for my home office. It was time to capture some strategic study time
Then, I showered, dressed and geared up I hopped on my Kawasaki Nomad for a morning commute to the office. Yes, it was Saturday and I was heading for work. But, this was a special journey.
The men of Sunset Church were launching their inaugural Men’s Ministry. That was an event that got my testosterone boiling. It was a priority to cheer this gathering on to success!
Then, I raced home where my home office occupied another Saturday afternoon segment of concentrated study. It was an ideal schedule before our children arrived for their first visit to our new California home.
When the door bell rang, Yvonne and I raced to welcome our grand puppies, Justin, Breanna, Kristin and Dustin. Jeremy is still back in Michigan and we miss him!
Our fellowship and dinner were filled with laughter, nostalgic memories and even a few chores. Our apartment is far from being settled. Boxes were moved, aesthetics were added and tools were put to work.
When we waved good-bye and our kids drove off, it was back to my home office for me. Late into the night I studied. Discovery, organization and development marked my productive time.
Sunday began like Saturday. I was up before 6AM. This was “game-day.” It was my first Sunday to speak at Sunset Church since starting my new position.
When Yvonne and I arrived at church, we began countless conversations, listened intently and fellowshipped profusely. I preached. I was so glad that I studied hard all week.
Right after church our leadership team met. For a few hours we shared our vision for our individual assignments. I was impressed with how many joined in with their passions for this church.
But, Sunday night was the highlight. Our church family gathered for a celebration dinner. It would mark the start of our journey together.
We laughed, sang, and reflected. Of course, we ate. An amazing fare of food filled the table to overflowing. Yvonne and I said “Good-night” to all and we arrived at home with great memories of our new church family. If is full of love and honor. What a way to begin.
photo credit: google image
My excellent office staff coached me on how to manuever through the Chinese Consulate. I needed to apply for a visa for my upcoming trip to Shanghai.
First, they printed off the application from the internet. They told me how to get to the office, what time to go in order to fit in between the crowded times and what documents to bring.
When I arrived, the line seemed long to me. But, after I took my place in the queue just minutes later the line had grown immensely. Once at the door I was in for a surprise.
The security guard was from a private agency, but he was big! He deftly turned away the best excuses to cut in line. No one argued with him once he ordered people to the back of the line.
Once ushered into the security screening I emptied my pockets only to be aghast that I had my pocket knife. The agent in charge was staring at it. So I surrendered it to him with my own initiative. He said that I could have it back when I left. I was relieved!
Once inside I took a number. It was 138. Next, I found a seat and looked up at the electronic information board near the ceiling. It read 81. Yes, I groaned.
In my hurry to arrive I had forgotten to bring a book to read. That was frustrating knowing that my wait-time would likely be at the very least an hour of my time. So I turned my attention to watching the crowds of people.
An elderly couple entered the crowded room of people. Holding tightly to each others’ arm they found a pair of chairs near the front. They settled into these extremely uncomfortable plastic chairs for a long wait.
Surrounded by mass chaos, they glanced at each other with years of familiar interaction. A calm overtook them that even a storm of anxiety could not shake. I smiled.
In front of me a young mother cooed at her infant son. He giggled loudly when she tickled him. Scurrying up on to the back of his chair he flashed his toothy pearly whites my way. A quick wink from me started a fast game of hide-and-go-seek that added to his laughter. I smiled again.
Sure, the room was packed with impatient people, angry people and annoyed people. But, I was going to China. I smiled deeply.
photo credit: google image
California requires that our vehicles be tested for emissions. To do so I made an appointment at a testing center located in the heart of downtown San Francisco. Henry was waiting at his shop to certify my vehicles as clean.
I drove from my Richmond District flat and headed downtown. My circuitous route took me past the avenues and into the Tenderloin district. From there I moved through the Financial District. Finally, I ended up in the Mission District.
The stop and go traffic captured my interest. Hills and steep roadways keep me alert. Close quarters with bicyclists gave a clear sense of an urban environment.
But, the people who I saw were unforgettable. It wasn’t people watching for curiosity sake. Rather it was the variety that filled my mental notepad.
A man walked slowly and methodically across the street. His sunglasses and white cane gave away his daily challenge. He was blind.
Another elderly man hobbled along the sidewalk. In his right hand he held tightly to a cane. His left hand was tightly gripped by his wife of many years. Together they moved slowly, no doubt in discomfort if not in pain. He was lame.
A few blocks further and I stopped at a red light. Into the cross walk a disheveled man pushed his grocery store buggy across with all of his earthly belongs stuffed inside. He was dirty from head to foot but what arrested my attention was the blank look on his face, eyes that had no life, a countenance that knew no joy.
There was an elderly Asian woman. Her clothes were unkempt and mismatched. The shoes that she were worn out with holes in them. It had been a long time since a hairdresser had done anything with her locks. She cradled a toy doll in her arms as if it were a real baby. There was a blank look on her face like the others.
Passing these clearly troubled lives were well-dressed business men and women. All had places to go and appointments to keep. They scurried down the sidewalks, carrying designer cups of coffee and often talking on cell phones as they kept up a brisk pace on the pavement.
These beautiful people also had faces without life. It was a different kind of blank look but the same. My heart is breaking for the people of this city. They need the Savior.
photo credit: google image
