MY COUSIN, SHARON

To say it most kindly, but truthfully, in Tacoma we were both raised in significantly dangerous family situations.  Since Sharon was about 4 years older than me, we rarely hung out.  Occasionally, she stepped in to protect me from one of her brothers or a sister when I was at their place.  We got along pretty good.  I was about 12 when she stayed at our house on the other side of town.   Later, our family moved out of Tacoma to Klickitat, Washington, just as I turned 15.  Except for one night in 1970, when she stayed at my apartment in Redwood City, CA, and I was about 25, I didn't have any time with her again.  And, in reality, her life had exploded many ways over many years, before and after that last time together.

I can't say I wasn't frustrated this March when the Lord gave me the dates to head to the Northwest and to take a plane instead of driving.   It's the first time in 14 years that driving hadn't been the God-job.  Now, home, I've seen a number of reasons why and how I was out there without my car.

Sharon was one of the reasons.  She had been moved to an apartment about 3 blocks from the sister, Betty, where I was staying in Tacoma.  When I arrived at Betty's, Sharon was there.  We laughed, we hugged, we rejoiced together.  She told me her address and I said I'd be there later that evening.  So, I walked.

We laughed, again, and watched some TV.  I walked back to Betty's, but it was getting pretty dark.  She was quite concerned and she stood outside the apartment building and stayed on the sidewalk so she could see me for about 2/3 of my walk time.  That area, for instance, was not a safe place.  It has been filled with danger for many years from drugs and gang situations... one of my nephews murdered there, for instance, and other family members truly filled with danger.  Sharon watched out for me, even though it wasn't quite as bad.

Another couple nights I went to her place and spent a couple hours.  The last one, because I was leaving town the next day, I invited her to drop down to Subway and have dinner with me and I'd buy for her.  She agreed to come down, but wouldn't have any food.  It took me a short time to get my food and I walked to the booth she was at.  Before I sat down she said, nodding to the window, "There's a guy right over that's in trouble."  I looked and saw this young-ish man sitting on the street-edge of the sidewalk.  He had his feet on the street and kept leaning over.  I grabbed my stuff, and we rushed straight across the street.  It ain't a safe place sometimes, as it has bars, etc., right over there.  When we got there, Sharon asked him what was wrong.  He said he was so thirsty and couldn't breathe.  I tossed my food into Sharon's hands and ran back across the street and into Subway and told them I needed water ASAP.  I was given a cup and filled it and ran back.  When I gave it to him, he drank it quickly.  He said he was waiting for his friend from the apartment over him to come down and he'd have someone to help him walk.  

While Sharon and I were standing there, and he was still sitting,  I asked his name.  He said it is Chris.  I asked for his hand.  I held his hand and Sharon touched my arm, and I prayed for him, for his health, his safety, and more.  When I finished, he thanked me and he said he has Jesus on him.  He showed me his other hand other his 5 fingers each had one letter for J..E..S..U..S.  I'd seen many tattoos on him, but hadn't noticed that.

I bent down and hugged him, and Sharon and I went back to the other side of the street to her place.  And then I ate.  We laughed, we talked, and we had our last time together.  As she was putting me on the elevator, I said I wanted to take a picture of us now.  She didn't like that idea, but I forced it.  She smiled.

SO... when the Lord had me take a plane, this is one of the events that occurred that wouldn't have happened if I had my car.  I'd see her, if at all possible, or drive her around and about where our families had lived dozens of years ago...and hers still owned by family member.  But I know I wouldn't have been hanging out enough for Sharon to be piled with concern of Chris, for us to run across the street and check him out and to pray for and protect him in a small way. 

If the Lord "makes" me fly again, instead of driving around and about, I think I know now that He has some significant reasons.  Without my car, I was with Sharon more often... I couldn't run all over town, go to Seattle to play, spend lots of time with other friends... and have been with Chris.

Many more happened, both out there and on the plane home.  Can't complain about the plane, doncha think?