Community

I serve as a Pastor with my wife Sarah in Pacific Grove, CA but reside in the nearby Salinas Valley. We were able to buy a home recently in S. Salinas, due to the influx of forclosures and the stress of this Great Recession that we are in. Somehow all of this mess has benefited some of us.

Pacific Grove is a beautiful coastal town. This past weekend we were involved in a city-wide festival here called Good Old Days. The entire weekend we experienced temperatures in the high 70's and the sun shined bright against the backdrop of the crystal blue bay with the occasional refreshing breeze. It was a gorgeous display of the towns quaint character and the bays grandeur. Meanwhile in the news once again I heard about the violence exploding on the streets of my new hometown Salinas, an agricultural hub of California just a 30 minute drive away from PG.

PG is known as the last American Hometown. The streets are quiet after 6 PM. Crime-rates are practically non-existent or at least kept quiet, yet often people can be so wrapped up in their lives that deep relationships are hard to be had. In Salinas we just came off of a year that had the highest homicide rate in its history and this year we have already seen 12 killings take place in our city at the hands of Gang Violence, yet I find that people are warm and considerate as a rule in the day-to-day marketplace, and despite the violence people are hopeful and prayerful for a new day.

This is the picture that people have of these two towns. In one we imagine our kids riding bikes through the neighborhoods and in the other we have the impression that there is a war exploding on the other side of our front doors. neither is completely accurate

Let me share with you a story. A few weeks ago I lost my wedding ring. I have been working really hard these first few months of 2009 to lose weight (24 pounds so far). On a Saturday afternoon my wife and I took our kids to a park near our house (Mission Park). We played with our kids on the slides and pushed them on the swings. I wouldn't realize it till Sunday morning when I was getting ready for church that I had lost my ring. I was out of the house very early so I just trusted that it somehow ended up on my dresser or nightstand. Not wanting to disturb my wife's last minutes of sleep I saved my search for that afternoon. When afternoon came and I was back at home after a great morning worshipping together with my church, I tore my house apart looking for my ring with no luck.

I retraced our steps the day earlier. Sarah and I and the kids went to Starbucks in the morning, a class at the Quadrangle Building on Main Street in Salinas, lunch at Chevy's and the park. I drove to the park and searched around the swings. One lady pushing her daughter on a swing looked on at this man searching frantically in the dirt. I was thinking this looked odd and to put her concerns at ease, I told her that I had lost my ring the day earlier and thought it might be here. She sympathetically said, "oh, I am sorry." I left the park empty-handed, ring finger still barren. That night at a prayer meeting I told one lady from our church about my lost ring and asked her to pray that I would find this treasure once again. She agreed she would.

On Monday morning I called Chevy's, Starbucks and the instructor of our class to ask if my ring had turned up in any of those places. No one had turned it in. I was depressed. This ring has donned my finger for 13 years and now it was gone. I checked back at those numbers on Tuesday. Nothing turned up. Wednesday went by. My wife told me, "Don't worry about it, it is just a thing. We can get you another ring. This doesn't change our love for each other." These were words I knew to be true, yet this was still heavy on my heart. I exchanged vows with my wife and this ring was a part of that ceremony. This ring although just an object stood for something to me. It represented those vows and the love and life that I share with my wonderful wife. On Thursday morning, having given up all hope, once again I prayed to God, "Lord, I know it is improbable that I will ever see my ring again, but if it is Your will would you please bring it back to me somehow!"

That night I received an e-mail from the lady in my church who I had asked to pray with me that I would find my ring. In her e-mail she asked if I had found my ring and then asked, "Did you go to Mission Park this weekend, there is a lost and found ad in the paper for a man's ring found at Mission Park." I quickly e-mailed the lady in our church back and then called her trying to get the number. Sarah, my wife, jumped online perusing the Herald's lost and found ads. Finding the number I placed the call, despite the fact that it was after 9 PM. I left a frantic message.

10 minutes later the person who left the ad called back. She asked, "Are you the man that I talked to at the park on Sunday afternoon?" I started putting two and two together. this was the lady who was pushing her daughter on the swing. She was the only one that I had talked to in the park that day. 15 minutes after I had left the park she found my ring. She drove around the neighborhood looking for my white van, because she didn't know my name or my phone number, but she saw me leave in my white Sienna. She called the police, but did not want to relinquish it to them for fear that it would wind up being sold at an auction. It became her mission to get this ring back to the man that was desperately looking for his wedding memento in the park on Sunday.

The only person I talked to in the park that day was this woman who "coincidentally" stepped on my ring and placed that ad looking for me, it's owner.

The woman that I had asked to pray for me, was the only person in our church who I had talked to that Sunday night about my ring, and she prayerfully found that ad burried in the back of the Herald.

That Thursday night at 10:30 PM the woman who had found my ring pulled up to my driveway and handed me my wedding ring. I was in awe. Both of these ladies were my heroes. They are both a part of my community. One lady a native of Pacific Grove and faithful prayer warrior in our church, the other a concerned neighbor who took on the desperate mission to return my ring.

I love my community, where I work and where I reside. My community is where I live my life. The good and the bad, and these elements exist in both locales. Beyond that my community is my family. My wife was so gracious to me that I had lost this token of her love for me, which she had placed on my finger.

Finally my community is God Himself. He had the whole thing under control. How does a ring find its owner? God my advocate, my friend, my fellow church member, my neighbor, my family - He had the steps for my ring's return lined out for me.

This is a snapshot of community. I love mine.