Living Life in West Long Beach

Silverado Park, Long Beach

Living Life in West Long Beach
by Carol Sato  
 (This article was written on March 7, 2020, a few days before our daily lives changed as a result of COVID-19. Carol, known as “Mom” at Fountain of Life, still goes for walks, but maintains an appropriate social distance.)


Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another. John 15:13-18 (ESV)
 
Silverado Park is my track. It’s my outdoor gym. It’s my space to exercise and to be enriched by the sunshine, beautiful flowers, interesting plants, the clouds, and the fresh air of the morning. In God’s sovereignty, it’s also my training ground and mission field.
 
Since 2002, this training ground has provided opportunities to experience God’s continued faithfulness and steadfast love. As I have walked, prayed, enjoyed the squirrels and my surroundings, God has helped me to connect with people as I have said, “hello,” interacted with folks, and prayed for some who shared specific needs or ailments. I refer to these steps of faith as my God-given “walking ministry.”
 
Recognizing the fruitfulness of experiencing God in the context of my local park, I began to see my daily walks as a mission field where God’s continued faithfulness and steadfast love are expressed to others through me.
 
Last year in mid-December, while walking by the tennis courts, I saw Pastor John drive by. As we finished greeting one another with smiles and waves, I realized that a young woman, whom I’ll call Maria, was walking at my pace. I have seen her walking around the park many times. I had never spoken to her but, on that day, it seemed like God wanted Maria to experience his love and care.
 
“Hi, I’m Carol. I’ve seen you many times. What is your name?” We began to talk and she felt comfortable sharing her story. Maria was 7 years old when she experienced a stroke. This resulted in a need to relearn everything that she had learned up to that point in her life.
 
She expressed her desire to learn how to read. It was a priority for her because she wanted to read with her own young child. I promised that I would ask my friends to see if there was a way that we can help her achieve her goal.
 
God, the giver of good gifts, loves Maria and heard her heart’s cry. Even before her need became a prayer request, he prepared, called, and provided a retired teacher with expertise in helping adults to read. Carolyn, Keva Green’s mother, is God’s good gift of grace to Maria and her family.
 
With Maria’s parent’s approval, Carolyn began working with Maria in February. For Carolyn who gives as well as receives and for Maria who receives, it has been an awesome, joyful experience. [They hope to resume their meetings when they are able.] God’s love is being poured out through Carolyn to Maria and her family. We are praying that they will come to know Jesus as their Lord and Savior.
 
Under the Lord’s authority and jurisdiction, my training ground and mission field take on greater meaning as I see the Lord of the harvest working to make himself known at Silverado Park.
 
“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” (Ephesians 3:20-21)

Water Walkers

Water Walkers
by Pastor Dan Palomino

I don’t think there is a single person on this globe except, perhaps, those who are unable to process reality, who do not know about the pandemic we are in at present. We are constantly bombarded with news about COVID-19. We wake up to it, we see it throughout the day either by watching the news on TV or getting notifications on our phones, and it’s pretty much the last thing we hear or read about before going to sleep.

Thankfully I’m not dreaming about it. Although, in a roundabout sort of way, I am. I have had a dream a couple of nights this week where I had a “normal” encounter with a person from whom I did not have to stand 6 feet away. In another dream (it’s a bit fuzzy now) I think I dreamt of going to a ballgame with my son. I was dreaming about normal life. When I woke up, I felt maybe what we’re actually experiencing in the midst of this pandemic, is the actual dream. Then, of course, I realize that it’s not.

Recently, in my role as chaplain, I was preparing to share a reflection with my hospice team, so I read an article in the LA Times. The article was about ways to be able to get a good night’s sleep and how important this is for maintaining a healthy immune system. One hint is, don’t watch the news too much and especially don’t read any news within 90 minutes of going to bed. Unfortunately, I read this within a half-hour of going to bed. Consequently, I didn’t sleep very well.

Being bombarded with all this news about the corona virus makes me think of the time Jesus walks on the water and Peter calls out to him: “’Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ [Jesus] said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me’” (Matthew 14:28-30).

Of course, Jesus does. Then he asks Peter, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (v. 31) Matthew doesn’t tell us what Peter’s answer was. Perhaps he had no answer. Maybe he just felt ashamed even though he was the only one of the Twelve with the boldness to actually get out of the boat and take Jesus at his word.

But he got distracted with the wind and the waves around him. He lost his focus on the Lord standing before him, the Lord who was with him. The Lord who is with us even as we can easily be distracted by the wind and every wave of news that hits us from all sides. Just as Jesus is in the boat with us (Mark 4), he is on the water with us. We need to keep our eyes on HIM. Yes, we will be aware of the storm around us. We can’t completely ignore it. Nor should we. But our primary focus must be on the Lord.

As we have heard many times from Pastor John (including the last couple of Sundays and in our Wednesday night Digital Discipleship sessions), stay in the Word. Go deeper in the Word. In our first Mobile Life Group, one of our main takeaways from Psalm 1 is to be that tree firmly planted by streams of water by “delighting” in the law of the Lord (His Word) and “meditating” on his law “day and night.”

We are fighting the spread of this pandemic for a time by “social distancing,” or as one of our sisters prefers to call it, “social solidarity.” We must fight the onslaught of reporting of the pandemic by focusing on Jesus and his Word, getting into the Word so that the Word gets into us for all time. Fill your heart and mind with the Word of the Lord, not with the news of COVID-19. May we all be water walkers who are not filled with doubt because of what we see around us but who stay on the water because of WHO we see before us, standing with us.

Links from Digital Discipleship 4/1

Pastor John mentioned several links and action items tonight (4/1/20) during Digital Discipleship.

  • Wednesday Witness, 4/6/20 Training: If you would like to take part in the 4/6/20 training, sign up here: bit.ly/FOLWedWitness
  • FOL Fight Club: If you would like to join the FOL Fight Club to help you find a partner to help you in the fight against unbelief, click here to sign up: bit.ly/FightUnbelief
  • Fighting Unbelief Resource: If you would like to read the Fighting Unbelief Resource, click here: bit.ly/FOL_FightUnbelief

Loss in the Time of Coronavirus

Loss in the Time of Coronavirus
by Matt Jenson

I’m getting married to Sarah Brown on July 24. A few weeks ago we sent out save the dates. We’re midway through the planning, with a venue locked in, Chef Mike slated to make some Korean BBQ-style street tacos and churros and ice cream. We’ve got a band and a really fun plan for the dancing. My spiritual director of ten years enthusiastically agreed to officiate. Sarah’s got a dress, too. It’s stunning, I hear—she keeps showing pictures to everyone but me.

That was our February and early March. Now, later in the month, it looks increasingly likely that large gatherings will be out-of-bounds, in late July.

We missed each other recently. Sarah was sad about what seemed to her a waste of money. I rushed in to tell her it wasn’t a waste, totally missing the point—that she was sad. She was rightly feeling the loss of this beautiful day, one that we have been moving towards for four years and, in another sense, our entire lives. “It’s not about the wedding; it’s about the marriage,” you might say. And of course, that’s true. But still… I think you get it: some events, some days, some seasons—well, they just matter.

By the mercy and power of God, ours will be a life-giving, sanctifying marriage, big wedding or no big wedding. We’ll look back on the strange, world-upsetting days of the coronavirus and tell stories of what it was like to begin our life together in the midst of a pandemic. But I bet we will still carry some sadness over the loss of that big wedding. It may not be all about the wedding, but a wedding’s not nothing.

I don’t share all of this to elicit pity. We’re already brainstorming creative alternatives. We are doing well. To be perfectly honest, I’m enjoying a slower pace, the absence of bureaucracy in my life, and an empty social calendar. Instead, I share this because I bet, in fact I know, that many of you are mourning the loss of things right now, too. Seniors, in high school or college, have suddenly had their last days of school and are robbed of a chance to say good-bye, to savor the final days together, to have parties and look ahead and look back and, maybe, just maybe, finally shoot their shot.

Or you have vacation plans, plans you’ve had in place for a long time. It was the first family vacation where everyone was old enough to enjoy one another; or it was the first vacation, just the two of you, where you could leave the kids with their grandparents.

Or you had just begun forming some new friendships. You live alone. You are introverted, slow to come out of your shell; but there are these women you have started getting together with that feel like close friends, the first close friends in a long time. Now, all you can do is video chat —which is nice, but not the same. And you wonder if they’ll be too busy to remember you.

But maybe that feels like chump change from where you’re sitting today. You’ve been laid off, without notice, without two weeks of pay, without prospects of employment. You have bills due, mouths that are complaining and hungry. Your losses are tangible—money in the bank, regular work—and they affect more than just you. They affect your kids, your partner, your extended family.

Brothers and sisters, this is us in the days of coronavirus. We are losing so much. We are understandably, therefore, at a loss ourselves. Everything in me wants to add right at this point that we are not without hope—and, dear ones, we are not without hope! But sometimes we need to say one thing instead of two. Today, let that one thing be that each of us has lost something and will lose something. Too many of us will even lose someone. And the first and best response to that is not to say that everything will be fine but, like Sarah did as she considered the wedding that might not be, to be sad.

I love you, dear family. I am so sorry for your losses. Let’s look for ways to mourn our losses together, and as we do, let us live in the strange beatitude of Jesus: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).

Matt Jenson is a member of Fountain of Life Covenant Church and teaches great books in the Torrey Honors Institute at Biola University.