30.0 Christian Enlightenment

by Elizabeth Stephens

Pastor Clarence and his wife Judy who pastored the local Nazarene Church in Santa Monica stopped by later that day in the evening to speak to me about knowing Jesus. I had never heard the Gospel before. Yes, I had seen the Robe and the Ten Commandments and I at the time I wished I had a faith that I could believe in like that.

I had no idea that Jesus was behind that faith. When I would share my Buddhist faith sometimes I ran into Christians that would tell me that Jesus loves me and I would tell them, and Buddha loves you too. I did not know any better. Although I studied the sutras and letters from the Buddhist founder, I had never been faced with the truth and when I heard it that night, I gave my life to the Lord. I cried and knew this was right. We, James and myself came to know Jesus Christ on the same day, which unbeknownst to us at the time, is a very unusual occurrence.

The pastor left and there we were new creatures in Christ. There would be a reordering of our lives.  We were going to have to rethink many situations, thoughts, family, even our daily routines. Together we had over 30 years of Buddhist practice, associations, acquaintances and friends. What made things much more challenging is that we lived across the street from the North American Headquarters. The next day we gathered together all our items of faith and returned them across the street.

(Sometime within a few years of being hired at the phone company, that same building was purchased by the Buddhist organization that I belonged to. I went to so many meetings at this location.)

James dropped them off at the front desk, to a mutual friend named Ann at the front desk. James told her he was returning these items and she said they have to go back to the temple, she thought they were from some of our members. James said no, he was not playing by their rules anymore and with that he dropped off his cargo (the Gohonzons, and the small scrolls), turned and left the building. He then took our handcart, loaded our large butsudon (our tall three door Buddhist altar) onto it, and walked it across Wilshire Boulevard to Morning Sun, a Buddhist altar store owned by Archie, whose family had been in the Buddhist altar business for over 300 years in Japan. (Much later, it was purchased by a Buddhist named Tina).

James, our son Eric at the time and I in 1981. Photo by Chris Casler.

James, our son Eric at the time and I in 1981. Photo by Chris Casler.

Tina Turner in Life Magazine Article (she purchased our old butsudon).

Tina Turner in Life Magazine Article (she purchased our old butsudon).

Not one person knocked on our door and when most of our members found out, there was shock in the camp. In the Buddhist scripture there is a term about stepping over the bodies of the fallen ones that have left the faith. Thank you Lord Jesus for you will not leave us nor forsake us, ever.

What does a new creature in Christ feel like? I had to learn to stop rout chanting, for a parking place or while I was waiting. It was so strange to run into former friends as they were afraid of us and would be so nervous and uncomfortable. It was as if the truth might rub off on them so they had to get away as soon as possible.

Once I ran into an old friend, Valerie and she was happy to see me. She drove up with her kids in the car. She said her husband is not a member and does not like her to talk to members. I told her great as I was not a member anymore; she was mortified and quickly left.

As for the Jewish contingent of my family, they accepted us with open arms when we were Buddhists and now we got the cold shoulder when we became Christians. I had heard rumors that there were actual funerals held for Jews that became Christians, but up until this time I had not believed it. Now I was rethinking the situation. Since that time the communication has fallen off and no matter what we did or did not do, everything was looked down upon.

31.0 Baptism, Christian Wedding and the Pursuit of God

by Elizabeth Stephens

We were having a hard time adjusting. The Church was so different from what we were used to as Buddhists. The small Nazarene Church that we attended included congregants who were literally born in the nursery and were now retired.  In many ways, it was a perfect spiritual nursery of sorts for us.

Each Sunday morning, we would sit by a saintly couple in their eighties named Paul and Elizabeth who became our spiritual grandparents. Paul had taught at Pilgrim Bible College in Pasadena (founded in 1921) and both were precious examples to us of kindness and tender loving care. In the  months after our conversion, we must have been invited to believer’s homes at least ten times.

On Sunday evenings, the sanctuary resounded with beautiful hymns echoing through the halls from the upstairs meeting rooms. I later found out that the Vineyard was meeting there. Sundays were full for us. Bible study, followed by the service. On more than one Sunday afternoon, we were invited over to Paul and Elizabeth’s for lunch.  Elizabeth and Paul were so Christ-like in their care for us and our children as well, pulling out a couple of phone books for them to sit on at the table since they did not have high chairs.

Paul gave us a book by A.W. Tozer entitled, Pursuit of God which fueled our desire to prayerfully pursue God. And then another book by John MacArthur on Worship, The Ultimate Priority.  One afternoon James was a bit depressed and I overheard Paul share a meaningful Scripture which gave us both great solace in our anxiety, “Be still and know that I am God.”  We found much encouragement in fellowship with the saints, young and old. We were now family.

 

Pastor Clarence recommended that we get Baptized and redo our marriage vows. Consequently,  we decided to have a Christian wedding, a  re-commitment ceremony and among those we invited were those Buddhists who had originally attended our Buddhist wedding 7 years before.  However,  it wasn’t too much of a surprise when only two Buddhist members showed up because we knew that those who went taiten or quit the faith as we had now done were often shunned. As Buddhists, on Sunday morning we would recite the “Precepts for Youth” at Young Women’s Division meetings and one well known statement resounded in my mind, “we will march over the bodies of our taiten members.”  Radical religious commitment makes for a difficult transition in any faith community.

This was the cover of the invitation drawn by James. As you can tell, we are kneeling at the foot of the cross. Sunday, October 21, 1984. After Church, James and I drove down to the beach with our family where we were to be baptized.

Baptism and Wedding Invitation.

Baptism and Wedding Invitation.

File2498 It was a beautiful October afternoon when Pastor Clarence baptized James and I in the Pacific Ocean.  If you’re in Santa Monica it’s where Pico Boulevard intersects with the Pacific not far from the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium where we used to attend many Buddhist monthly General Meetings. Our group was waiting with towels and encouragement on the sand.

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First we were baptised in the Pacific Ocean that afternoon, and then in the evening we all met at the Church for the renewal of our wedding vows and a celebration dinner.   It was quite a different mix for our second wedding as we had only been Christians for a short while. Of course, the entire church attended, along with a few of our neighbors,  a few Amway distributors who had become our good friends and mentors, two Buddhists who had maintained their friendship with us and two former Buddhists who had become Christians.

Early that evening we all met back at the Church and after prayer,  James gave a short testimony about our recent conversion, which was followed by encouraging words from Tim, who was our sponsor in the Amway business, and Craig who was a Diamond and had not only helped us with our business, but spent time with James sharing the Good News about Jesus.

Tim our Amway sponsor giving a brief message.

Tim our Amway sponsor giving a brief message.

 

Craig an Amway Diamond sharing his testimony and an encouraging message at our wedding.

Craig an Amway Diamond sharing his testimony and an encouraging message at our wedding.

Wendy, who had spent time at L’Abri the Christian retreat center with Francis Schaeffer had happened to walk into the Church  when we were sharing our testimony and decided to attend.   We asked her if she would sing at our second wedding. She beautifully sang, “The Lord’s Prayer.”

File2501Our father Which art in heaven Hallowed be thy name Thy kingdom come Thy will be done on earth As it is in heaven Give us this day our daily bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil For thine is the kingdom And the power And the glory, forever, amen

Our re-commitment Ceremony also known as our second wedding was officiated by Pastor Clarence, the pastor who shared the plan of salvation with  James and I. We are eternally grateful to God for the tender counsel and care Clarence and Judy provided as we came into the community of faith.

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James and I taking our first communion after redoing our marriage vows. It was a moving moment for the both of us.

 Reaffirming Our Marriage Vows.

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Our “First Kiss”

After the ceremony, we gathered together in the fellowship hall for potluck dinner. One of our old Buddhist friends was a baker and she graciously made a cake for the celebration. It was an emotion filled day with a lot of new friends and new memories.

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 One of our Buddhist friends who is a baker made the cake for us.

James and I cutting the cake. Eric awaiting a delicious dessert.

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As we continued in our new faith we felt like we wanted to study and do more. Someone suggested two churches in the San Fernando Valley, Church on the Way and Grace Community Church. Since James was reading the book on Worship by MacArthur, he decided to attend a service one Sunday night at Grace Community Church. The Pastor, John MacArthur was preaching through Matthew, line by line. Although we loved the little Nazarene Church in Santa Monica, we were moved by the Holy Spirit and felt a strong sense of calling that compelled us to consider attending Grace. We were hungry to learn the Scriptures and it seemed that God was calling us to a new chapter in our lives.

 

…. A historical note. On this day in history October 21, 1512.

  • Martin Luther joined the theological faculty of the University of Wittenberg.

 

32.0 The Witch’s Hat

by Elizabeth Stephens

Apartment Managers

As we became more and more grounded in the word of God, we pondered what we should do with our lives and continued to ask God  for direction. At the time, James was reading Worship the Ultimate Priority by John MacArthur and had an insatiable desire for deeper teaching on the Word of God. He called Dan Robinson, an Amway Diamond who had mentored Craig and asked if he knew of a Church which might fit the bill. He suggested two churches in the San Fernando Valley which were about a half an hour drive from our apartment in Santa Monica. One was Church on the Way pastored by Jack Hayford and the other was Grace Community Church pastored by John MacArthur.

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Sheila, James, Eric and I in a sandbox James made which was a little play area for them at Willis.

Since James was reading one of MacArthur’s books, he thought it might be a good idea to check out one of their evening services since our Church in Santa Monica only met in the morning. James found the expository preaching exhilarating and Grace’s programs seemed perfect for our young family.

 

It was difficult leaving the loving little Church that had been our spiritual nursery, but we felt the strong leading of the Holy Spirit and broke the news to Clarence. It was time for us to move on. Circumstances aligned themselves providentially for a move after James was offered a job not far from Church and a member of Grace asked if we might be interested in managing an apartment about five minutes from Grace. After prayerful consideration, we thought, why not?   So we moved to Panorama City and became the resident managers of an apartment building in an area we discovered many years later had been  nicknamed by the LA Police Department “the Witch’s Hat.”

At the time, we had little idea what we were in for as apartment managers, but as former radical Buddhists we were up for the challenge.  There were 28 apartments exhibiting an eclectic array of residents who hailed from Russia, Iran, Poland, Hawaii, Mexico, Germany, an African American family who had previously worked for the local General Motors plant on Van Nuys Boulevard which had closed down, Master’s Seminary students, drug pushers, drug addicts, a porn star, deaf residents, blended families, single mothers, Ba’Hai followers, Muslims, Orthodox Christians and more.

Apartment on Willis.James had landed a job for Western Union selling Electronic Mail back in 1985 if you can believe it. After he’d get home, he’d change light bulbs, take care of minor repairs, and collect the rent. Our weekly routine involved removing graffiti off the front mailboxes and the laundry room. We quickly learned that if we were to get any sleep at night we would have to turn on the local classical station in order to mask out the sound of police helicopters and gunshots which plagued the area on a nightly basis. We soon discovered that we had moved into a dangerous drug war zone. Apartments in the area actually had drive up windows where drugs and money were literally exchanged like a McDonald’s.

 

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James, our firstborn son Eric, me and firstborn daughter Sheila.

 

During the day, it was fairly quiet for the most part. The evenings were a different matter when everyone arrived home from work. I recall one evening, James during his normal routine, stopped by to collect rent from a single mother who was on SSI (Government assistance) and the resident’s visiting boyfriend who was a professional boxer, became so angry that he threatened James and followed him outside and taunted him over our apartment patio fence frightening the children and I. As we sat down for dinner that evening and after we prayed, James said, “We’re outta here! I can’t take these threats against our family.”

All of the sudden there was a knock at the door and we all feared the worst. James carefully peered through the keyhole and with much relief saw saw that it was just two of the resident’s children who were from Iran and Russia. James opened the door and the young boy politely asked, “Mr. Stephens, my Mother is wondering if we could start coming to church with you?” What could James say, but “Sure.”  And so our adventure continued as word spread throughout the apartment complex.

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All the children we took to Church on Wednesday, Sunday morning and Sunday Evening. This photo was taken on Resurrection Sunday after Church during an “Easter Egg Hunt.”

 

On a weekly average, we would take over 22 children to Church in our VW Van. That was before the seat belt laws. We were only about five minutes away. It was packed every Sunday morning and evening service and Wednesday evening.   We were able to share the word and our lives with others. It was quite an experience as children piled into the van and were so excited to go to church. After we arrived at church, we’d drop them off at their individual classes on Sunday and Awana’s on Wednesday, a children’s program where they would learn their Bible Verses, sing songs, and play games with their peers. The parents were not simply looking for babysitters, but sincerely desired that their children would grow up in a more moral environment.

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Eric, Justin, Jordan and Sheila.

Several of the children gave their lives to Christ and were proud to earn their badges for memorizing Scripture and doing various tasks. Two of the boys, Justin and Jordan became Eric and Sheila’s good friends and playmates.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sheila, Justin, Jordan and Eric.

Other families had fled from Iran who had been persecuted for their Christian faith as well as for being Ba’Hai.

We created activities to encourage community among the children.  One time, James had met Merrill Dyck a missionary who was attending the Shepherd’s Conference for pastors and missionaries and was moved by his story. He and his wife were Bible translators among the Pume Indians in Venezuela  and James asked, “Could you speak at our apartment?” Merrill said, “Certainly.” So we invited our community in and over 40 people crowded into our little two bedroom apartment and listened in rapt attention to the Dyck’s amazing stories about how they learned the language of the Pume Indians and translated the Bible into their language. It was a memorable evening for all those attending.

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Teaching Eric to ride a bicycle in the parking lot.

James  spent time in the parking lot with the children. He taught Eric how to ride a bike and helped other children learn as well.

The parking lot was the resident’s take-off and landing pad, and their children’s playground.

It was also the site where James had a difficult talk with a young African American resident who drove an expensive BMW and was pushing drugs. James kindly gave him the option of staying if he stopped selling drugs or to leave.  James shared the message of redemption with him and asked if he had heard the story of Jesus and the redeeming power of His death. The young man sadly said, “Yes. My grandmother has told me the story many times. I love her and would stop, but the money is too good. I have no other way to make a living. You can see I drive a very nice car and have nice clothes.”  The young man made a decision to leave that day and caused no problem. He knew the truth, but the economic bondage of the drug trade is a hard barrier to overcome as is greed. It was hard to watch.

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The parking lot was the site for innovative games where kids would run relay races and would perform routine tasks such as picking up crumpled paper throw it into a waste bin, run to the next station,  pick up laundry, throw it into a laundry basket. The kids loved it. Well, some of them. For others it was a learning experience.

 

 

 

 

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They were characters and enjoyed clowning around.

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Many were new immigrants from Russia, Poland, Germany and Iran. It was quite an amazing little international community.

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We hosted a harvest party during Halloween for the kids. James and I wanted them to feel welcome and worked hard at establishing a sense of community as each holiday came around. The kids were quite creative with their costumes. 

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When Christmas arrived our little apartment became a welcoming crossroads for residents as many attended the annual Christmas concert which they thoroughly enjoyed. I remember Karen and Vernon, Talbot Seminary students attending Grace spent the night as well. People were always camping out. The more the merrier.

Here's Eric warming himself in front of our faux Christmas fireplace. Eric is sitting in the same area where he first started reading  to James by himself.

Here’s Eric warming himself in front of our faux Christmas fireplace. Eric is sitting in the same area where he first started reading  to James by himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Pablo, a Master’s Seminary student, James and Eric during Christmas on Willis in Panorama City.

 

Pablo, one of the other residents, a Master’s Seminary student and James along with another friend Joe, took Perspectives on the World Christian Movement together and had a prayer meeting once a week at our apartment. It was a busy time.

Here we are getting ready to go to the annual Christmas concert at Grace. One Christmas concert, over 40 people attended the concert. The elderly couple from Russia were so thrilled afterwards and said it reminded them of the great concerts they used to attend in Moscow many years ago. It was wonderful evening for everyone who attended.

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James and I, Lucky(standing in back) his wife Jennifer siting down, with Marney, Brittany, and Lindsey, and Sheila and Eric in front. Elizabeth was pregnant with Taylor that Christmas. Our Russian and Iranian neighbors and their family.

 

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James, Eric, Sheila, and I camping in Mammoth Lakes. Our VW Westfalia pop up is in the background.

In 1978, we bought a green Volkswagen Westfalia, the one with the pop top. At the writing of this story, our son Eric has it and is doing an excellent job of restoration. It certainly needed it after all the wear and tear over the years of ministry and family trips. We were going to give it up to the Salvation Army, but James and Eric, while sitting in it and discussing the future of the van became fairly emotional as they reminisced over all the good times and memories we all had over the years and could not bear to part with it.  We used to joke that we had 460 air-conditioning. You know, 4 windows down at 60 miles per hour. We had water spray bottles and would douse each other as needed.

 

Speaking of water. One evening we were getting ready to take the group to church and there was a problem that James had to address with another Church member. It was a Wednesday evening and it was Awana time. I was pregnant and my water broke about 8 o’clock. I would have to wait as it would be too much to get all 18 rounded up fast from different locations on the church grounds. As 9 o’clock approached I hurried to the car. James and young man from the apartments, Guy, were talking about this meeting and how it did not go well. I did not say anything.   Finally the car pulled up to the apartments and the door opened and all the children ran out into the narrow courtyard as usual. As we walked up to our apartment door James said he was glad this day was over as he was about to put the key into the door. I said not so fast, my water broke. We did a 180 and turned around and walked back to the car. As everyone was still in the courtyard and wished us well as we were off to the hospital. The next morning, our second daughter Taylor was born.

 

Here I am holding Taylor our youngest daughter.

Here I am holding Taylor our youngest daughter.

What a blessing as she was born while we were Christians. We did break the Buddhist vows over our first two children before.

Sheila holding her baby sis Taylor, Eric supporting her head and James.

Sheila holding her baby sis Taylor, Eric supporting her head and James.

 

Dinner with James and Sheila.

Dinner with James and Sheila.

Sheila, Grandpa Carlton, Baby Taylor and Eric.

Sheila, Grandpa Carlton, Baby Taylor and Eric.

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Jennifer and Lucky came to our rescue and took Eric and Sheila while we drove to the hospital. Great friends. They brought over dinner later the next day. We were exhausted.

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Jennifer and Lucky, Eric and Sheila’s Awana leaders with James, and I with other children visiting the LA Zoo.

 

Our lives would soon change again sooner than we would imagine. We had rented an apartment to a deaf couple that had two children that could hear. One evening the oldest child knocked on our door. “Call the police; he is beating up my mother!”

Shortly afterwards the police came out and took the man away. His stepdaughter came over and relayed a message to us. “My stepfather said he will kill you when he gets out in the morning.”  The policeman said the man was on PCP or Angel Dust and they would lock him up for the night, but he would be out in the morning. Oh great.   Well, the next morning at 7:30 am there was a loud pounding on the door and there he was with a baseball bat ready to kill us.

James called on a neighbor that we had got to know quite well as we had taken his children to church. He was a mercenary, (of course you should always have such friends) and came over with his assault rifle and motioned to the deaf man at our door to go slowly back into his own apartment. The man complied. Our friend came in and we called the police. James asked our friend to make sure he put the gun in the closet before the police came. When the police arrived they said all that we can do is to talk to the deaf man through the interpreter, since he had to pay rent and we were the apartment managers. There was no way the police could tell him he could not come near us.

As it happened, James made a decision that it was time to leave. The same day a family at Grace Community Church graciously opened their home to us as we looked for a new apartment and James and some of the men packed us up. Within a week, we had found an apartment in Canyon Country and moved some thirty miles away. Our new three bedroom apartment was located in a residential community with a pool and a tennis court. After living in the “Witch’s Hat”, it was like moving into a vacation community and yet it was bittersweet as we missed all the friends we had made and ministered to.

Within a month, James received an unexpected telephone call in the middle of the night at our new home from our former apartment residents crying, “Can you come over immediately? The next door apartment building is on fire!”  So James drove down and comforted many of the residents and their children who were outside in the back parking lot in their pajamas covered up in blankets watching the three alarm fire as the new apartment construction next door ferociously went up in flame. Later we were told that the windows of the apartment we had lived in were melted by the intense flames.

33.0 Out of the Blue

 By Elizabeth Stephens

One summer morning, out of the blue, James turned to me and said, “The LORD spoke to me when I awoke. Today,  you are going to meet Mr. Lascar.”

That’s my Dad, David. “Okay,” I thought and went off to do something else.

The phone rang later that morning and James said, “It’s Adrian.”

My sister was calling from Hawaii. She had been living there for a few years and was soon to be married. She explained to me that her Pastor had encouraged her to invite our parents to the wedding. She didn’t expect a reply, but in obedience had sent off an invitation. She said, “David wrote me back.” She was surprised and read the letter to me. In it David commented that it was his first written correspondence in the last thirty years. His wife, Selma had done everything for him (including telling him what to think and when to think it). Now she was dying. She had gone in for an operation and shortly after the doctors had opened her up, they saw cancer had spread throughout her body, closed her up and sent her home to die.

It was difficult to process. At the same time, I thought, “Wow. How amazing this is transpiring,” as I thought back to James’ comment that very morning. (In retrospect, now I realize that it was not David who wrote a letter to me saying “Give your children to the Buddha”, but it was Selma, impersonating David).

Meeting David 

After finishing my call with Adrian, I realized that we needed some assuring guidance or insight on this difficult matter. It had been nineteen years since I had seen my father David. James called up the church we were attending and talked to the pastor of the day. When he found out it was one of the young men going to seminary, he felt it was too complex to explain, and so politely declined their help,  said thank you and instead at that moment decided to call some friends and have them pray for us. We could only get a hold of our friend Lucky. Then James said, “Let’s pray and ask the Holy Spirit to guide us.”

 

After we got done praying, James said, “I believe the LORD is directing us to get the children dressed up, pick up some flowers and drive to their house in Malibu.  I had no idea what to expect. Had Selma already died? We only knew that we must proceed in faith. We loaded up our three children and drove from Canyon Country to Malibu about an hour drive away, a distance of some thirty plus miles.

As our green Volkswagen bus pulled up to their house a young woman was coming out. I was getting Taylor, who was six months old, out of her car seat and James walked up to the woman and said, “Marcy?” He had never met my half sisters, but knew their names. How he managed to get the right name with the right person was just the Lord.

She responded, “Yes, who are you?”

He said, “I’m Elizabeth Stephens’ husband.”

She was somewhat puzzled. “I don’t know any Elizabeth Stephens.”

James said, “You may remember her as Liz Lascar.”

“Sure. Oh, Lizzy!”

“Elizabeth heard that Selma was not doing well.”

Marcy, responded, “No she’s not. In fact, she just returned this morning from the hospital.”

James asked, “Elizabeth wanted to visit her and David.”

Marcy said, “David’s out, but she can come in. Let me go in and tell her.”

James then came to the VW and told me and we got the children ready to go in.  I noticed that Marcy had gone inside. My heart sank. Marcy reappeared and said, “Please come in. I’m just heading off to work, but Marilyn is inside.” So we all walked in together, but didn’t know what to expect.

The house was absolutely immaculate, a grand piano, white coaches, huge floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking the blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean and a beautiful flower garden in full bloom with purple lavender flowers, crimson red bougainvilleas, and red azaleas.

Marilyn was inside and greeted us as we entered. She said, “Hi Liz” like nothing had ever happened. “Dad’s not here.” As you can imagine my head was spinning. Marilyn showed James and I and the children into the living area and then she said, “I’ll let Selma know you’re here.”

I heard Marilyn go into the bedroom and say, “Lizzy is here.”  I heard an audible groan. It was very disturbing. I was ushered into a bedroom and there was Selma lying in a hospital bed. I took a seat next to the bed as my family waited in the living room. Selma would not even look at me and would not even speak to me.

This reminds me of the story of Jane Eyre, a novel by English writer Charlotte Brontë. In the novel, Jane Eyre, a young girl  suffered abuse under her Aunt after her parents died. Years later after much suffering and deprivation, she was sent for by  her abusive Aunt as she lay dying. The relative’s intent was to clear her conscience and tell Jane that another relative had come looking for her years earlier to bestow a fortune on her to which the Aunt falsely reported Jane’s death. Jane Eyre though hurt,  believed in God and told her Aunt that she forgave her, but the women would not hear of this and died shortly thereafter.

Likewise, Selma would not open her eyes nor even acknowledge my presence. I said, “Hello.” She would not utter a single word.

All of a sudden the front door opened and I heard David come in. He was talking to James and for the first time they met face to face. David was also amazed at seeing his grandchildren. (He did not have any grandchildren through his other children at the time). I got up from Selma’s bedside and entered the living room. There was David, my earthly father. I felt very strange. I had prayed for this so many times. I had always felt that David would die first. But here he was. David did not know what to say. He said, “Hello.” But I can’t remember much more.

All that he could get out to James was, “How can you ever forgive me?” James did share the forgiveness that he had known from Jesus and the subject was shortly changed. But he did listen. He was uncomfortable and stepped outside for a smoke in the garden with James.

When he came back in, James said, “Well, I guess we should be heading out.”

David, said, “Have some dinner.”  What could we say? We were surprised and the next thing we found ourselves being ushered into their kitchen and seated while Marilyn prepared some food. Never before had I dined in their kitchen all those years and now they were making us a meal!  Scripture raced through my mind, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5). As I thought back to my early days, so many feelings came flooding back.

As we sat at the table, we talked about the Scriptures and Marilyn marveled on how well we knew Torah. She said, “And I work for a Jewish agency! I’m going have to study more!” It was all in good humor. And yet, it was a strangely surreal.

I never made it back into Selma’s room, yet I was okay with that. It was time to leave and David took down our phone number saying he would call us soon. We left and talked all the way home about all that had happened.

34.0 An Awkward Reunion

By Elizabeth Stephens

A few days had gone by and I was feeling uneasy. Why had David not picked up the phone? I couldn’t wait any longer and called his number. Selma picked up the phone and said hello. I was stunned and hung up. I was not prepared for that.  It immediately brought back memories of days gone by when I had called their home hoping that I would get David on the phone and not Selma. He never picked up the phone.

David did finally call and came over and visited. I was so surprised. It was unreal to me as you can imagine after nineteen years of separation. James was at work and so David took us out to Marie Callendar’s Restaurant for lunch. It was so strange to be sitting down having a meal with my Dad. My father-in-law Carlton drove the children and I to the restaurant  to meet him.

In the meantime, my sister Adrian and her fiancé Scott had gotten married in Hawaii and were on their honeymoon. Now, where do you think people who live in Hawaii go on their honeymoon? Try Russia. They joined up with a Hawaiian dance company from the islands and assisted them on a tour in Russia. On their way back the newlyweds planned a stop in Los Angeles for a short visit with the relatives.

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Sheila, Baby Tay, and Eric in front of the Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Loomis sign.

We pulled together a small family reunion to greet Adrian and her husband Scott. David was first to arrive and greeted his grandchildren.

Sheila, Grandpa David and Eric.

Sheila, Grandpa David and Eric.

He was followed by my Aunt Sharon and her eldest daughter Rebecca. David had not seen Sharon  (my late mother Bebs’ sister) for years and years. Although they were civil to one another, it was obvious their feelings about one another had not changed.

 

David greeting Sharon, his late wife Bebs' sister and Sharon's eldest daughter Rebecca.

David greeting Sharon, his late wife Bebs’ sister and Sharon’s eldest daughter Rebecca.

Here is Adrian and Scott arriving for the reception.

 

Adrian and Scott arriving at the reception/reunion.

Adrian and Scott arriving at the reception/reunion.

 

The arrivals and greetings were full of wildly different emotions. Adrian had not seen David for nearly nineteen years.

Reunion between Adrian and David after nineteen years in Canyon Country.

Reunion between Adrian and David after nineteen years in Canyon Country.

It was such a whirlwind of activity, we had no idea what to expect.

Adrian, David, and I reunited for the first time in nineteen years.

Adrian, David, and I reunited for the first time in nineteen years.

It’s very difficult to describe in words the torrent of feelings and emotions, and strange relief that flowed through my heart at the time. Two daughters reunited with their Dad after nineteen years of separation. It seemed like a dream. The photo tells a story in itself. Aunt Sharon talking with Adrian’s husband Scott, and an old family photo of my great grandparents from Lithuania, and an antique painting James picked up in Minneapolis of the Good Shepherd taking care of His lamb and flock.

Lucky and Jennifer and their girls arrived and brought a delicious cake for the reception.

Our good friends, Jennifer and Lucky and their three girls, Brittany, Marney, and Lindsey.

Our good friends, Jennifer and Lucky and their three girls, Brittany, Marney, and Lindsey.

 

Jennifer and the lovely wedding cake.

Jennifer bringing the lovely wedding cake.

Jennifer bringing the lovely wedding cake.

Honoring the Newlyweds-Mr. and Mrs. Adrian and Scott Loomis.

Adrian and Scott Loomis. Lindsey in the foreground and Marney on Scott's left.

Adrian and Scott Loomis. Lindsey in the foreground and Marney, Eric, and Sheila on Scott’s left.

Time for Cake and a group photo.

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Adrian and Scott cutting the cake, Lindsey, Eric, Taylor, Brittany, Sheila. Second row. Marney, Sharon, Rebecca, Elizabeth; third row Lucky and Jennifer.

A Toast to the new bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Scott Loomis.

The Wedding Toast for Adrian and Scott.

The Wedding Toast for Adrian and Scott.

 

One last photo of Adrian, David and I with Taylor on my back around the table.

Adrian, David, and I with Baby Taylor on my back.

Adrian, David, and I with Baby Taylor on my back.

 

After the gathering, every one seemed to go back to their lives. Adrian and Scott settled in Hawaii. Our family moved to the Pasadena area.  David continued to live at their home in Malibu focusing on caring for Selma who was bedridden at the time.

Grandpa Carlton in the rocker holding baby Taylor.

Grandpa Carlton in the rocker holding baby Taylor.

Carlton, James’ Dad who had lived with us in Canyon Country in our three bedroom house, moved with us to Pasadena to William Carey International University, where we moved into one of the last rentals available, the smallest two bedroom rental house. It was so small you had to get to the bathroom by going through one of the bedrooms.

People would find out that he lived with us and they would ask why he did not live alone. Our response was why should he when he can enjoy his grandchildren? We all loved him so much. How can you trade the love of the grand kids either? No one would have traded the time we had with Carlton for anything.

Carlton was the strong tall Texan and very handsome. As you can imagine there was a slight rivalry between the grandpas.

 

File3010 Two Grandpas and two granddaughters. My Dad David sitting next to our oldest daughter Sheila, my Father-in-law Carlton holding our youngest baby Taylor.

Two Grandpas and two granddaughters. My Dad David sitting next to our oldest daughter Sheila, my Father-in-law Carlton holding our youngest baby Taylor.

Occasionally, David would come over and then began spending Sunday afternoons with us regularly after we moved to Pasadena. He helped build a white picket fence and a little clubhouse for the children to play in as well.

When we moved to Pasadena, James and David built a white picket fence and James and Carlton planted a bluegrass lawn for the children to play on. Here's Taylor.

When we moved to Pasadena, James and David built a white picket fence and James and Carlton planted a bluegrass lawn for the children to play on. Here’s Taylor.

When David came over he commented on how small the house was. You must be saints to live in this little shack. He wasn’t known for his subtlety.  Nevertheless, he loved hanging out at our home and sensed peace in our abode.

Our hatbox. We had all sorts of hats. James and the children loved to role play with all the various hats they'd pull out of the box.

Our hatbox. We had all sorts of hats. James and the children loved to role play with all the various hats they’d pull out of the box.

Adrian, David,me.jpg

My sister, Adrian, David and me at Palisades Park in Santa Monica, California area.

 

35.0 A Jewish Funeral

By Elizabeth Stephens

December 1989. Late one afternoon, David called with news I had long anticipated, “Selma has passed away.”  Without skipping a beat, I asked David when the funeral would be taking place. Although he didn’t want me to attend, I felt compelled to go. He reluctantly agreed, “Fine.”

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Carlton, me, James holding baby Taylor, Eric, and Sheila.

On the day of the funeral, James’ Dad Carlton drove us in his Country Squire station wagon with the wood panel on the side. There was James, Carlton, myself and our three young children. We pulled up to Mt. Sinai funeral home located across the road from Disney Studios. The attendant thought James was the Rabbi and directed him accordingly over to the large group which was gathered inside the waiting area. It was a good thing that we didn’t drive up in our green Volkswagen Van, as the Ford Country Squire was already oddly out of place among the fleet of Mercedes, BMW’s, and Rolls.

As we walked into the room with our children it was obvious that we stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd. We were the only ones with children. No one greeted us at first, well except with their eyes, furtively glancing at us from top to bottom.  Someone mentioned that the family looked grief stricken. I saw the direction they were pointing and noticed a small open room off to the side. We walked in and I was face to face with Nancy, my step sister. I said my condolences and then saw David. He rose to meet us. Not a minute later, Frank and Joan appeared, Selma’s brother and sister-in-law. It had been many years since I had seen them. We passed pleasantries and then were introduced to their daughter’s Lali and Lulu  who were both quite cordial. We then left for the graveside ceremony.

As we drove to the gravesite, a crowd of about one hundred had already assembled behind all the family members who had been seated in the front row. They were all properly dressed in black, except for David, who was wearing a light blue sport jacket. Honestly, Selma had probably dressed him for so many years that he didn’t know how to dress for any other occasion on his own except for work. In fact, he’d recently told me about doing laundry. He was so proud of himself for figuring out the coin operated washer/dryer.

No seat was offered to us, so we stood apart as a family far to the left of the grave and assembled relatives and crowd. Strangely, it felt like we were standing precisely where we were to witness the passage of a woman who had so cruelly abused me over the years.

The rabbi started the service. As he spoke eloquently about what a wonderful person Selma had been to her family and to the community and began likening her to the godly woman referred to in Proverbs 31 of the Old Testament Wisdom literature, I leaned over to James and whispered, “I wish I had a tape recorder, Adrian should hear this.’

James comforting response was, “Don’t worry, God has a tape recorder.”

Thoughts raced across my mind of making some sort of scene,  but I decided against it.

After the service it was time to lower the casket and the family and friends solemnly threw roses on her grave. I felt a bit removed as I stood there observing people’s grief. They had lost their mother and David had lost his wife. The years of emotional separation made me feel like I was watching someone else’s family. And then a complex array of emotions rose again. I contemplated picking up the shovel and throwing dirt on her grave and saying, “Good riddens Selma”, but being polite, I restrained myself. The entire scene conflicted with my sense of justice.

Selma’s brother Frank then came up to me and kindly asked, “We’d like it if your family would come to the wake at the house in Malibu.”  I was surprised. The family agreed and we drove over to the Westside.

For the second time, we walked into David and Selma’s house and met other relatives and their spouses. One older gentleman said he had attended David and Selma’s wedding ceremony and remembered meeting me. That was many moons ago. I did not remember him as I was too young. There was a flurry of faces, handshakes, condolences, meeting my half sisters, step-brothers, and step-sister.

Then I met Gabby, who was married to Neil, my step brother. She was so anxious to meet us. She mentioned that when David said he was going over to his other daughter’s house, she was so surprised since she didn’t even know I existed. She had married into the family years before and had not known about some of its dark secrets. I was not surprised since Selma’s modis operandi had been ‘out of sight, out of mind.’

Gabby then dropped two bombshells on us. First, she whispered that she too was a Christian as well and had been since she was 8 years old. Then she said that when Selma was sick with cancer she had tried to speak with her about Jesus. One day Selma called her and said the nurse was telling her the same story. After Selma passed away the nurse told Gabby that Selma had accepted Jesus on her death bed.

We were in shock. Of course I had mixed emotions. I asked,  “Really?”  Immediately, the story of the laborers in the field came to my mind.

The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard

“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard.

“About nine in the morning he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. He told them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went.

“He went out again about noon and about three in the afternoon and did the same thing. About five in the afternoon he went out and found still others standing around. He asked them, ‘Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?’

“‘Because no one has hired us,’ they answered.

“He said to them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard.’

“When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.’

“The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

“But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius?Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’

“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

~Book of Matthew 20:1-16

 

 

37.0 The Next Chapter

It was a very busy time after Selma died. Raising a family, going to school, moving, traveling, and working. David would come over to our Pasadena residence on Sundays for many months. He would sit on on porch, and visit and hold court. David would go head to head with James about Christianity and when he knew he couldn’t win he would leave.

David was a very sad man and lonely too. He married for the third time to a lady from the Philippines. He would say, he doesn’t divorce them, he buries them.

Apparently, David had written about his early days and his time during the war from an organization that collected survivor testimonies that paid him $500. I have since tried to locate the paperwork without success and have not learned the name of the organization. Though David did not want to talk about his war experiences to us, now the family has many unanswered questions and the older relatives do not have much to say either. It is amazing for me to realize my father was in a concentration/work camp and I am one generation removed from hell, yet how near it can be again.

David became sick and was very close to death. When he was in delirium he would say, get the children, grab as many as you can to save them from the ovens. We were called and told David passed away and there was a wake the next day. All the resources, were taken by David’s new family and they disappeared.

James & I  have continued to work in Christian ministry and have gone through many situation that would need to have their own books written. Some have asked us why we are still Christian. Our reply is, we follow the Lord not man.

We have now been married 40 years and we are looking to the next 40 and walking into the rapture together. Praise the Lord!