I'm 45 years old, born and raised here in La Jolla. I was brought up as a Christian, in so much as that word might be used to define someone on a census survey, like "Race: Caucasian" or "Status: Married." As a kid, I learned all the popular Bible stories, exchanged gifts at Christmas, and even attended church once in a while.
I'm a practical and pragmatic sort. I've never had any trouble believing in God, because I could see hard evidence of His hand at work in the world all around me. And that seemed to be enough. I figured Him to be a busy fellow, and did my best to leave Him to his work. I never really got the Jesus part, never sought Him out, and, sadly, I was put off by organized religion at an early age. Things always came easy to me, and I lived a blissfully ignorant life.
Then, two years ago, things went really bad, really fast, and in a way that was completely beyond my control. My wife was already attending LJCC at the time, and she encouraged me to come with her. The genuine spirituality and community of the church was inspiring, in spite of - or perhaps because of - the odd setting of the Hilton hotel ballroom in which it met. So I started going to church, and it gave me a welcome level of reassurance and perspective in the trials I was going through. As I let down my guard, I started to feel God's presence and that, in turn, nurtured my faith. I can't say I had FOUND Christ at that point, but I finally WANTED to find Him.
In April, Steve Murray invited me to join a men's retreat in Big Bear. I left home a few days early and drove up the long way. San Gorgonio is not a tall or particularly picturesque mountain, but it's special to me. I've been there at least a dozen times over the years, on different routes, with different friends, in the height of summer and the dead of winter. It was early season, and the middle of the week. There was still a lot of snow on the ground, so I pretty much knew I'd be alone out there.
A few years ago, I was shooting a TV show in Egypt, retracing the route of Moses Exodus on mountain bikes. At the culmination of the long trip, we were camped at Elijah's basin just below the peak of Mt. Sinai. I prayed to God to reveal Himself to me. Of course, I was envisioning some kind of theatrical, Old Testament encounter. And, of course, I knew even as a prayed it, that my request was utterly unworthy. The next day, we climbed the last few miles to the top and completed our filming. No burning bush or booming voice awaited me there, only tourists eating snacks and taking photos.
So, now, camped below this anonymous SoCal peak, I prayed to God again. Not to conjure a miracle, but simply to guide me in my new journey of faith. I reached the summit at noon the next day. It was sunny and clear but a bitter wind was blowing. At the top is an old Forest-Service-green box. I entered my name and the weather conditions in the logbook, put it back and closed the lid. On the outside of the box was a sticker with the stylized face of a bald man and the four letter word "OBEY." It barely registered at the time, other than brief disapproval of the vandal who would leave something like that in the wilderness. It was the logo of a skateboard company that I'd seen hundreds of times before, plastered on stop signs and street lights back home. (Some snowboarders had probably stuck it there earlier in the winter when they hiked up to ride the backcountry bowls.) I took some pictures and hurried to get out of the wind. It wasn't until I was already well on my way down, that I suddenly realized the implication of that sticker and its one simple word. It was almost too surreal to be believed - almost. I had always imagined God's ways to be arcane: prophecies woven into parables; angellic visions; relics smelling of incense and mildew. Yet this was a vinyl decal from a counterculture skateboard company. And really, what better way could God have chosen to make Himself and His will known to ME than that absurd yet familiar logo, delivered on this unremarkable yet familiar mountaintop?
The next day, I joined the LJCC gang in Big Bear and took advantage of the safe and secluded environment of the retreat to process what I'd found. When I returned home, I learned that my hopeless problem was looking more hopeful again, and it resolved itself a few months later.
I've been going to church, studying the bible, learning to pray, getting to better know the Lord, and - obviously - trying hard to obey. I've still got a long a way to go, and a lot of lost time to make up for, but at least I know, without a doubt, that I am on the right path.
Strange as it may be, that's my story of Answered Prayer.
member since 2007