Suddenly--Possibilities of Faith

 

             Despite my infrequent flying, I knew when the pilot said to buckle up and get ready for landing, really hitting the ground took a while.  So, as expected, our gradual descent went as usual.  But as we got close to finally setting down, suddenly the plane pulled up and headed skyward instead.  A very nice young man was sitting next to me on the plane and in our conversation, I had learned he often flew with his job.  I asked him if my observation of what had just happened was accurate.  He replied, “Yes.”  And then I said, “Has this ever happened to you before?” This time he replied, “No.”

                This plane ride to Charlotte, North Carolina, happened over ten years ago.  I was traveling alone because I was going to help our daughter with her less than two-month-old son Henry for a week.  I had not thought about this experience for a long time until this last week.  I think the Holy Spirit brought it to my mind because of its symbolism of what I am experiencing right now.  The fast change of direction matches a quote of St. Francis of Assisi that has been written on my heart for even more than ten years: “First do what’s necessary, then what’s possible, and suddenly you will be doing the impossible.”

                Why would remembering this plane ride help me discern God’s still, small voice to guide me now?  He is encouraging me to keep believing that His promises are sure, His faithfulness to keep them remains even when circumstances are suggesting otherwise.  I have had significant pain, stiffness, and energy issues for thirty years.  In St Louis, where my husband and I lived all our lives before moving to Charleston, Illinois, in 2015, we spent a lot of time seeing various doctors and specialists before I was clinically diagnosed with Hereditary Spastic Parapleses, a rare neurological condition that currently has no medical treatment other than trying to relieve increasing muscle spasticity, discomfort, and weakness.  Just this summer, here in this little university town on the prairie, I had genetic testing, verifying the diagnosis and wonderfully determining that the chances of my children and grandchildren inheriting this condition are virtually zero.

                In my 20s almost fifty years ago, my real but conventional Protestant Christian faith became deeper, more Christ-centered and more experiential through searching the scriptures and exploring new possibilities of faith, such as healing after praying with faith for the sick.  My participation in various Bible studies and prayer groups nurtured my growth over the years; I experienced wonderful answers to prayer.  I also heard others’ testimonies of answered prayer, including my own husband, who initially was not at all interested in growing beyond his Catholic background.

                Ten years ago, I had no need of walking with a cane.  Now I am being encouraged to use a walker, and I do when I “take a walk” or feel more tired in the evening, but not all the time.  The pandemic ending my exercising at Eastern Illinois University's Recreational Center has affected my efforts to keep as strong and upright as I can.  So I have been on the slow descent in my physical experience for some time.  The genetic counseling I had this past summer made clear some stark realities of future possibilities.  But a practice I have used for some time is asking God, “What do you have to say about this?”  The book of James tells us that we can ask God for wisdom, and He will supply it.

                His voice continues its instruction to believe, to fear not but trust that God’s promises will come to fruition—suddenly, like in the Bible and in St. Augustine’s words.  I have yearned to see more Biblical manifestations of the ministry of Christ continued by the Holy Spirit for a very long time—not just for myself but for many.  Jesus healed all, all who came to Him for help.  The book of Acts is a record of the early church and its experience of the Holy Spirit’s power continuing Jesus’s ministry as Jesus said they would if they would tarry in prayer until the Holy Spirit was poured out upon them.

                Some years ago, a prayer attributed to Mother Theresa circulated through emails for quite a while.  A line that really grabbed my attention was this: “May you not forget the infinite possibilities born of faith.”  Impossibilities becoming possible by the faith that God alone can quicken to our hearts and minds.  May “my plane” pull up and dramatically change course soon, mine and many more.

               

                 

               

 

Forest Park Forever

Forest Park Forever

                For a little girl growing up in St. Louis, the main feature of Forest Park was its nationally acclaimed zoo.  In the 1950s and 60s, the zoo was much simpler with lots of open space around the various animal habitats.  The big event hands-down was the monkey show, set in an outdoor circular venue, bleachers overlooking the little water mote between spectators and the stage for the monkey show.  When relatives came to visit us from out of town, the zoo and Cardinal baseball games were high on the destination list.  My parents had pictures made into slides, so my cute little girl delight at various zoo locations is well documented.

                At the free zoo, visitors could walk the various “streets” and see bears in settings depicting their natural habitats.  A favorite path was along the monkey and gorilla cages, all open air so people felt they could almost communicate with these critters.  A very popular and famous gorilla named Phil smoked cigarettes, greatly amusing the crowds.  After Phil died, a life-sized replica of him is now in the new  monkey section.  Another favorite place in the park was and is the nation’s largest outdoor theater.  The high quality shows on a very large stage shaded by real trees had amazing sets and costumes.  I remember seeing shows there with my family and even on a date.

                 Just across the street from the Lindell Boulevard boundary of the 1300+ acre park is The Chase Park Plaza Hotel, a very classy and well-known hotel even today after major renovations over the years.  In its very fancy Khorassan ballroom, I danced with Jim, a young man who would become my husband. The University of Missouri, St. Louis, homecoming dinner/dance was quite a bargain at only $5.00 per couple for this blind date.  I liked the young man, overlooking his ugly glasses to appreciate those pretty blue eyes and long eyelashes.  Yes, February 27, 1971, was the providential beginning of a love story that even after 45 years of marriage, ended too suddenly and too soon.

                On some dates and after marrying, Forest Park continued to be a place we explored and enjoyed.  My husband really loved musicals, so much so that he, a high school junior in 1965, went to the theater seven times to see The Sound of Music.  However, after seeing the show Applause featuring Lauren Bacall at the Muny with me on a very hot and humid summer night and later becoming parents, there was a long stretch before we made our way back to the Muny.     

                I am sure we took our children to the zoo before our first venture to take them to a kid-friendly Muny performance.  With a show like Peter Pan and a back section of free seats, the combination seemed perfect, and it worked out well.  Actually, sitting in the free seats provides a bit of a show in itself with people of all ages bringing many kinds of treats/food and beverages to pass the waiting time, from fried chicken to wine and grapes to melting, messy chocolate covered peanuts.  On another outing, we rented a paddle boat and made our way along the canal to the large basin at the bottom of Art Hill, a sledding destination in the winter.  Since the more recent renovations that placed lovely lighted fountains in the basin, that spot at night became my favorite sight at the park.

                Jim had various summer jobs during his years teaching physical education and coaching, but one of them led to the development of a new passion and area of expertise.  He had noticed a sightseeing bus in downtown St. Louis and inquired about the business.  Hired the next summer as a driver who picked up people at various downtown hotels, collected money, shared information all while navigating the streets downtown, his introduction to this industry was a baptism by fire.  But he studied St. Louis history, architecture, ethnic neighborhoods, historic churches—all of it greatly interested him.  After some years of study and working as a guide with visitors to the city, he became a respected tour guide among his peers.  He had a kind, considerate and humorous way with people, a winning combination that played out over and over throughout his life.

                After Jim's death in 2017, it was our daughter Bonnie who discovered the tribute stones called pavers that the nonprofit group Forest Park Forever sells to keep improving the park and remembering special people.  After purchasing one, I could use 45 characters for the engraving on the paver.  “Jim Laughlin, great St. Louis Tour Guide” seemed perfect for this setting.  There are several areas of pavers throughout the park, and I had no say about Jim's location.  But not surprisingly, the paver now sets in a most appropriate spot along the walkway at the base of Government Hill.  At the top of that hill is one of the few structures from the 1904 World’s Fair that remains in use today.

In the last months of his life, Jim presented a program on the 1904 World’s Fair held at Forest Park to an interested group assembled in the city library here in Charleston, Illinois.  As usual, he did an excellent job for the Life long learning Academy university program, complete with cotton candy and doctor pepper soda, both introduced at that fair.  He was delighted to tap into that part of his life’s work here in Charleston. 

After 66 years of life in St. Louis, we moved to this small town on the prairie where our daughter, her husband and our first grandchild, Henry, live.  Much of St. Louis and our years there remained in our hearts, so it is fitting and providential, I would say, that some of Jim’s great work in our hometown is remembered and etched in stone.

Forest Park Forever, indeed.