Cadiz, despite language barriers, offers window to faith

     On a bright December morning, I wander the narrow streets of Cadiz, Spain.  The weather is cool with a hint of warmth as the sun rises above the horizon. Church bells ring in unison as believers are called to worship. The locals, who call themselves Gaditanas, emerge from their homes.  I crisscross around the squares and pass dramatic cathedrals.  I continue to walk these cobblestone streets lined with three story buildings.  Small iron balconies frame every window in an array of color and design. The buildings near by appear in the windowpanes as beautiful reflections.  I pause in front of a smaller church, Iglesia del Carmen, located across the street from the promenade that runs along the fortified sea wall.  The door beckons me and I enter into the twilight.  

      Cadiz is rumored to be the oldest continuously inhabited European city. The Phoenicians established this settlement as an important seaport 3500 years ago.  The old city has played a unique role in the history of humankind as a crossroads to the old and new worlds. Like Charleston, Cadiz is a peninsula.   Continuing from ancient times, the harbor welcomes ships from all over the world.  In the 17^th and 18^th centuries, many towers were built atop the buildings as beacons to sailors and remains one of the town’s sources of pride.  These towers endure today as a testament to the affluence and distinction of this exceptional town.

     I am pulled towards this smaller cousin of the cathedrals.  The smell of incense fills the air and organ music swirls upward as I stand in the doorway.  A service is beginning.  I quickly find a seat in one of the pews.  Because this space is considerably smaller than most cathedrals, there is a sense of intimacy.  My gaze is drawn to the beautiful wooden wall covered in gold leaf behind the altar.  The intricate detail leaves me with a new appreciation for the craftsmen who created this masterpiece.  Mary, the mother of Jesus is featured in the middle where she looks lovingly out into the congregation.

     The priest welcomes us in Spanish.  I say us because at that moment, I am part of this community of worshippers.  Each of us is drawn here to this place in this time.  I am struck by the powerful connection I feel to a group of people I do not know.  For an hour and a half, we share a common love of God and it is evident as they praise Him in their language.  I sit quietly and consider a marvelous truth; I can be anywhere in the world and feel at home in one of my Father’s many houses of worship.  I can walk into any Christian Church or Cathedral and experience the presence of God if I am open to His voice.  No matter where I find myself, I can share my faith with strangers despite a difference in language and culture.  Before God, we are equally loved.  No one is greater than the other.  As we come together, a leveling field is created.  Social status, economic differences and our occupations are set aside as we focus on a common denominator.  In this moment, we are truly human as we unite with our creator.  Again, I ponder this truth and am humbled by the revelation.    

     I sit for a while, thinking and feeling.  In any Christian church in the world, I react exactly the same way. The thoughts that come to the surface of my consciousness are of a place of rest, peace, sanctuary, and home.  I sense God’s presence here as I can in Chartres, Cadiz and Charleston.  I don’t need to search the world for Him, but I know that when I explore the world, I can find Him in every church I enter.  In foreign places, this belief comforts me and gives me hope for the future of our world.  We have a common thread that connects us with love. 

Spiritual Patience in God's Time

It is Monday morning. I am sitting in front of my computer with an empty page staring back at me. My column is due Thursday and no inspiration has come for it’s topic. In the past, a memory touches me and I put it into words. This time, I have been waiting and waiting. Nothing. I take a break and go for a run. As I run down a marsh trail, admiring the beauty of God’s world, I realize that the topic needs to be on Waiting.

We are not taught to wait so I don’t wait well. The world tells me to know what I want and to go after it. I am weak if I sit still and wait. God tells me differently. The Bible shows example after example, the value of waiting. Abraham and Sarah wait decades for Isaac to be born. In the Psalms, David beseeches God to show Himself. When God is quiet, David reviews the times God revealed Himself in the past. This helps David put his trust in God again. Because of David’s trust, God works in his life according to His schedule.

God’s timing is impeccable if we have the patience to wait. To wait means to “do nothing expecting something to happen.” You ask, “What does this have to do with travel and feeling God’s presence?” I have found that this trust has to come first, before I can truly feel God’s company.

I want to share with you a couple examples of my waiting. From the moment in which I conceived the concept for Sacred Ground, I wanted to write about Ephesus, Turkey. In some ways, I felt this story should be my first column. I sat down to write it in September 2011 and God stayed my hand. “Write about Chartres,” he said quietly. His words didn’t make sense, but I followed them anyway. Every month after that, I asked, “Now, Father.” “Not, yet,” was the reply.

I was in Spain the week before Christmas and my column was due in a couple weeks. I like to have it written at least a week before my deadline so I can sit with it for a while. A topic was needed and I prayed for God to guide me. That morning, I heard the sad news of Barbara Stevenson’s death. As I thought through her impact on my life, I felt God say, “Now is the time to write about Ephesus and incorporate Barbara’s influence.” With His blessing, I included Barbara.

Now for the rest of the story: since the printing of my column, I have received many emails commenting on Barbara’s life. Most were from people who knew her. Unbeknownst to me, the column was read at her memorial. The people, who most loved her, felt that my comments, coming from a person who barely knew her, spoke of her essence. One of her grandsons who lives in the Charleston area, saw my column first and later thanked me for my remarks.

If I had written my essay in September, I would not have included Barbara. In waiting for God’s direction and timing, I impacted far more people with a testimony of someone who lived the life we are called to live.

My last column, describing my mission trips to Haiti is another example of God’s timing. I felt inspired to write about these experiences last month not knowing that St. Michael’s Episcopal Church was hosting GIC- Global Impact Celebration where 22 missionaries from all over the world gathered to speak along with Chaplain Barry Black of the US Senate and Rev. Dr. Ravi Zacharias. The kick off occurred four days after my column ran. I attended the Ladies Luncheon where we heard first hand what it is like to live as a missionary. God’s Spirit was present for the weeklong event where connections and reconnections were made. Financial contributions for mission work exceeded expectations and we were all reminded of our obligation to help others in need.

Filing each of these accounts in my mind where all the other Proof of Waiting stories exist, I, like King David, will be able to draw on these testimonies when I face another waiting scenario. My hope is that waiting will become easier, but I am not sure. After all, I am only human.

Rewards from Haitian Missions

The small aircraft circles overhead once to persuade animals to move away from the runway; a narrow strip of gravel running adjacent to the beach. An elderly man appears below wearing a bright orange vest and waving two flags in the air. We circle back around as our landing gear positions into place. The cloudless blue sky meets the crystal clear azure ocean of the Caribbean in an array of colors. A variety of greens and browns cover the distant mountains of the mainland. As I look out the window, Paradise pops into my head. We touch down in an exact location to give us the maximum space to land. A short distance away, a waist high stonewall crosses the strip in a t-shape. The breaks are applied as we hold our breath and the bumpy landing ends. The warmth of the sun envelops us as we step off the plane glad to be on ground again. With enthusiastic hugs, our aging host welcomes us to La Gonave, Haiti.

We unload our belongings and medical supplies quickly into an old garbage truck, which has been converted to a supply vehicle. Many people begin to appear to help, welcome and stare. Their smiles light up their beautiful faces.

Our two-day trip to this island off the coast of Port of Prince is more than half way over. Driving into the mountains to reach Lotore before nightfall is the last leg of our journey.

When compared with these islanders, our group from All Saint’s Anglican church, Pawley’s Island, South Carolina lives a very different lifestyle. In this moment though, it doesn’t matter. All of us are humans who bleed, experience pain, love our families, help people in need, and experience joy. We live life to the best of our abilities. There are more similarities that bring us together than differences that separate us. We come here to help our brothers and sisters in need and realize that we will actually receive more than we give.

Riding in an ambulance along the rutted dirt road, we bump constantly into each other. Trash is strewn along the road, where it sadly contrasts with the natural beauty. We take pictures to show our loved ones at home the state of the roads, but no photo can portray the damage caused by the rainstorms. Our drivers’ reflexes work overtime as they navigate around the multitude of ruts. One of our vehicles has a flat tire and we walk the rest of the way. Because this happens often, we learn to go with the flow. In this region, there is an abundance of red clay. By the time we arrive, we are covered from head to toe. The challenge is removing this clay during a sponge bath since there is no running water, electricity or wells nearby.

Our medical clinic opens for 3 ½ days as we see people from near and far. It is common for someone to walk hours to see us. We work diligently as we don’t want to turn anyone away. The local mission school gives up their classrooms for our clinic. The school children come the first day in their clean uniforms. We wonder in amazement how these mothers keep their children clean when they live in cinder block homes with dirt floors, no windows or doors and surrounded by the red clay.

The children sit quietly with their parents as they wait their turn to see our pediatrician. Long lines also form to see our adult doctors, vet and dentist. A group of teenage boys play soccer in the courtyard with a tennis ball. According to the world’s standards, these kids are disadvantaged though no one has told them. Laughter rises as they experience the joy of playing outside with their friends. Fifteen boys are satisfied with one tennis ball. I speculate on who is truly deprived; these boys or our children back home.

On Sunday, along with the locals, we attend St. Barnabus Mission Church, where it is evident that their trust in God is strong and deep due to their struggles. In Haitian Creole, their voices lift up praises in a beauty few witness.

The history of La Gonave is a sad one. At one time, the island was covered with lush forests. The poorest people from mainland Haiti were shipped over to live on this island in the harbor of Port au Prince. Through the years, the government has stripped the island of its natural resources. Erosion from clear-cutting the forests makes growing crops a difficult task and the ocean has been overfished. These destitute people are growing poorer in an already improvised country.

Our group gives medical care interlaced with hope for a better future. I have been fortunate to go with this remarkable group three times. Each visit brings new lessons and I welcome the time spent with these amazing Haitian people who continually show perseverance, courage, and gratefulness. In this, they have become my teachers.

I encourage each of you to reach out to whatever mission God puts in your path, be it local or international. You won’t regret it. The rewards are everlasting.

The Road to Ephesus

Walking the stone road through Ephesus is an experience I will never forget. On the west coast of the Izmir Provence of Turkey, I am with my traveling group from Charleston’s Church of St. Michael’s. In this arid climate, the sun is overhead and bright. There is a gentle breeze coming in from the sea. In ancient times, Ephesus was located on a river bend, which fed into a harbor. Over time, silt has filled in and the ocean is now located 8 km away. Crowds of people congregate around their guides. Incredible sights meet my eye in all directions. I feel the excitement coming from us all as I stand at the threshold of this ancient marvel.

Ephesus speaks to me on so many different levels. I love history and here the depth of the past is astounding. Everywhere I look, I imagine ancient people living their lives much as I do. I can feel their presence. I envision these stones telling their many stories. I am happy to see that we are listening by preserving these ruins. Experts work endless hours to bring this town of antiquity back to life.

On another level, Biblical men and women strolled the stone passageways. Apostle Paul walked the same streets I am walking. He greeted others as he made his way to the theater where ultimately, merchants, angered at his stance of their god Artemis threw him out of the city. I sit quietly on one of the theater’s seats and look down on the stage. I can almost see this scenario being played out in front of my eyes. I picture Paul taking on these angry men in the name of Jesus and his courage amazes me. He does not back down and consequently; he is escorted to the city gate and thrown out. His calm demeanor humbles me. He stands up for his faith when most would back down. Can I do the same?

My traveling companions whom I have grown to know during our trip add another dimension to my experience. Sometimes I travel alone and other times I am with a group or a few friends. Being with a group of friends here seems right and their enthusiasm and perceptions add to my understanding of this unique site. In his writings, Apostle Paul emphasized the importance of Christian friends in life’s journey. Our group has become cohesive as we walk many ruins together. We have gotten “to know each other from the inside out”(Frederick Buechner). Our Turkish tour guide and our priest, Dr. Peter Moore from St. Michael’s have prepared us intellectually for what we are seeing. What no one can prepare me for is the complexity of my feelings when I reach out and touch the past. Wisdom is gained and I come away richer for the journey.

One particular companion on our trip had been a woman, whom I have grown to esteem. She was elderly by the standards of the world, but to all of us, she was the life of the party. While others of her age were in nursing homes, she was traveling the world, experiencing all life has to offer. I have always been drawn to older women who live outside the box, who take what life has dealt them and then define it for themselves. Her deep-seated faith had enabled her to weather the deaths of her second husband and daughter within a year of our trip and yet here she was with us, making the most of her last years. She was an inspiration to all of us.

As a teenager, she sang for the WWII troops overseas. Many evenings on our trip, we stood by the piano and sang along with her. She had a spark I rarely see and we were drawn to her and her story. She didn’t speak of her faith unless you questioned her. Instead she lived it and what a powerful example she exemplified.

Last week, I heard of her death. I am not sad in the way you may think. She lived a very full life and made every second count. I mourn her because the world is not the same without her. She was truly one of a kind. What I want to gain from knowing her is the courage to be who I am, always. And to embrace and cherish every day! To draw deep into my faith during hard times. And to love life and forever be up for an adventure! I find it hard to think of her passing up even one OIALO - Once In a Lifetime Opportunities. And thus I want to be just like her when I grow up.

Barbara Stevenson of Long Island, NY and Vero/Jupiter Beach, Florida, we will miss your radiant spirit! You will not be forgotten. We know heaven is brighter with your presence. God has said well-done, good and faithful daughter. Welcome home. We wish you God speed.

N’Motion Fitness studio

A majority of my most meaningful experiences in the presence of God have been in solitude. An exception is fitness spinning at N’Motion studio in Mt. Pleasant. This nonprofit studio brings to reality Luke 10:27- “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and Love your neighbor as yourself”. This program bases itself on the Trinity of God. Mind, Body and Spirit are incorporated. Spinning represents the Father, where cardio exercise works the heart and the mind is engaged. Weights/strength training is based on Jesus, who came in a physical body and gives us strength when we ask Him. The Holy Spirit is found in stretching. He stretches us outside our box. This workout gives our body what we need to accomplish great things.

This is a perfect combination as we individually meet God while gaining the benefits of physical exercise. Bible verses and devotional sayings are read during seventy-five minutes to give us food for thought. Their mission is to serve women who serve others. This is the loving your neighbor component.

I prepare my spin bike for a ride to the mountaintop. Women around me talk quietly as they get on their bikes. A few of the women are new to spinning. In this place, there is no judgment, only patient explanation and love. The lights dim while Christian music plays in the background. Our instructor starts our group ride. She begins with a slow warm up while giving us some ideas to consider as we lose ourselves in God’s company. It is a solo ride, surrounded by the encouragement of others. The instructor encourages us to make this ride our own. We are instructed to listen to our bodies and determine how much resistance we add to the pedals. It is a private decision with no one observing our actions.

I close my eyes as the music swirls around me. I add more tension to the wheels as I feel my heart rate increase. Deeper into the seat of the bike I go as I work my muscles. I increase my cadence and I get lost in the music and God’s presence. He is here; ready to talk with me. I tell Him how this mountain is a tough climb and he says practice makes perfect. The climb will be long and hard, but the mountaintop view is spectacular. This is an analogy I use for life. There are times when I think I can’t make it because the climb lasts too long and my energy level is depleted to the point of collapse. This is when God steps in if I ask Him. He will give me the strength to continue as I climb higher. And He will be with me at the pinnacle where I celebrate a victory of sorts. The clarity I get at the summit makes all the past struggles worth the effort. I look back over the ride and see God in every turn. He confirms His promise never to desert me. It may feel like He is distant at times, but He is always with me. I can rely on Him and this gives me hope for a brighter future.

I have found that when I engage all my senses, I am brought into the present. It is impossible to be worried about the future or living in the past, when I am concentrating on the information my senses are gathering. I am where I need to be at this moment and life is good.

The jury is still out on whether I love to spin. What I know is that I love to connect to God in this amazing space. Only love fills this room. I pedal and find myself alone with God. He is so happy to connect with me in this sacred and safe place. The thirty- five minutes fly by as I spin in His presence. Before I know it, it is time to slow down, dismount and lift weights for fifteen minutes. Transitioning into stretching, my body is given a slow down while my mind is quieted.

N’Motion believes that nutrition is key to a healthy body. Their “fuel” classes are offered to promote healthy eating. Being well rounded is important.

I invite all women to visit this amazing place. Mention this article and the first visit is free. Find N’Motion on the web at www.nmotionstudio.org. This experience is a spiritual journey with physical benefits. Come join me for the ride of your life.

Deep Dive of Faith

Photos by Kim Brunson and Rob Lyons.

Leaving the dock behind, I swim towards open sea. All around me are hundreds of tiny rainbows dancing on the sand. The water, acting as a prism, breaks the sunlight into many colors. The rainbows are mesmerizing. I pause to take in the beauty and give thanks for this special moment.

In the aquamarine water, I swim along a coral reef off the shore of Bonaire. There is a slight current I am fighting against. The sun is shining through the water illuminating the corals, lightening up the oranges, blues, greens and whites. The ferns are delicately swaying in the surf. Fish of every size and color are swimming amongst the reef. There is so much activity to observe as I float by. Nowhere else in the natural world am I able to observe wildlife so closely without interrupting their animal behavior. The fish accept me as a fellow traveler in the ocean if I move slowly without frightening them. The only sound I hear is my regulator delivering air to my lungs as I inhale and exhale. Bubbles float to the surface. It is a comforting sound. I am alone in my thoughts and I am at home.

Schools of fish swim in front of me as they cross my projected path. They move with a grace that leaves me in awe. One fish in particular is swimming along with me. He swims ahead, darts between some ferns and then returns to my side. My dark brown friend, a Bar Jack, has adopted me as a traveling partner. He continues to weave around, behind and in front of me. He seems as enthralled with me as I am with him. I wish we could talk, but maybe that is the beauty of this world. We share this place through our presence, not through anything we say. No words will enhance this friendship. And I am content to swim in peace and harmony.

There is something amazing about being suspended; buoyant in a horizontal position. A certain freedom is gained from weightlessness. Normal human movements include forward, backwards, left, and right. Diving gives me the extra dimension of going up and down. Rising and falling are tools I use to navigate. In the same way, my faith gives me an added dimension. I have a connection to the source of life, which gives me access to God’s wisdom, His strength and His goodness.

Breath is an important component to diving. As I float in this sea of water, I control small ascents and descents by my breath. I swim towards a fern swaying. I need to go over it. I take in more air and hold it slightly while I lift higher. Slowly releasing, I swim easily over the obstacle. I maintain this new depth by breathing normal. Deep cleansings breaths are taken in and out as I observe the world around. I use less air in my tank as I maintain a rhythm. I am aware of what is happening in my body as well as what is going on around me.

I continue to swim into the current. I am 50 feet below the surface. When I look up, I see the surface lit up by the sun. My bubbles continue to make their way upward. The coral reef draws my gaze back. A moray eel slides along the sandy bottom. He sneaks into a crevice and disappears. A peacock flounder rushes by quickly as it searches for a rock to camouflage itself. A school of blue tang swims in uniform as it intersects a school of yellow tail snapper. Each school continues course. The mingling confuses neither.

God says there is nowhere I can go that He can’t follow. I feel this profoundly when diving in the deep. Alone in my thoughts, He appears. It is in the quiet that I hear His voice. When no one is speaking, we communicate. I thank him for this opportunity to enjoy His amazing creation and spend time with Him. He says it is His pleasure. He never tires of being with me. This fills me with great joy. He prefers it when I am still and open to His presence. In that moment, I am one with Him and I am content.

I look at my dive computer and realize that my hour is up. As I climb into the boat, the water dripping off me reminds me that I have reentered the human realm, where gravity holds me down. This magical time has come to an end. Only for the moment though. There is always another dive. And another time with God.