Journey to IV

The Lord is carrying me. I am absolutely covered in his peace. And I am as certain as I have ever been that am in exactly the right place. It occurred to me on my drive toward Santa Barbara that it was Wednesday and the saints in Memphis would be meeting for prayer later that night. As I lifted up that meeting to the Lord I realized the reason the past week has been such a wash of grace and peace is probably because of the prayers of the saints, which I know are being poured out in abundance.

There is too much to say already . . . the trip across the country with Elizabeth was delightful. We made great time and despite a check engine light and a near miss in the Mojave Desert involving an empty gas tank and high noon sun, all went amazingly well. We drove for 17 hours on Saturday, crashed at my Aunt and Uncle’s gorgeous oasis of a home just north of Albuquerque. We hit the road at 4am Sunday, driving 13 hours into Fountain Valley, CA. We just had time to meet and greet and freshen up before going to the Orange County Fair where my cousin Troy proposed to his girlfriend, Brooke. Family and friends swarmed at the bottom of the Ferris Wheel, giddy and anxious until they descended and Troy made the announcement, “She said yes!” upon which they were enveloped with whoops and hollers and hugs for the next 45 minutes. We stayed for a while and then Elizabeth and I snuck away to the beach to sniff the night air.

On, Tuesday Elizabeth pulled out her one-way-ticket to Memphis and, full of memories of beaches and Boococks (my mother’s side of the family), caught an afternoon flight home.

The next day, after breakfast with my grandmother, I embarked upon the last leg of my journey, the drive north(west) to Isla Vista by way of Pasadena. Stopping at Nickelodeon Studios, I met up with Amaris, Sarah and Jeff, young people from the Pasadena fellowship, for a patio lunch at a poshy Italian restaurant where Amaris proceeded to order only a platter of Brussels sprouts for lunch. Ha, ha! After a tour of Sarah’s art school and Nick-studios where we met Jeff’s sister and checked out everyone’s work stations, I headed west on the 134. I turned off the radio, wanting to worship but the only thing that resonated in my mind was from Fiddler on the Roof: “Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles . . . of all God’s miracles large and small, the most miraculous one of all, was the one I thought could never be . . .God has given you to me!” Full of joy, I arrived in IV.