Rebecca Carpenter

The curtains opened to another spectacular show.  Twinkling red and white lights glimmered in the early morning darkness.  A high ribbon of lights outlined the Verrazano Narrows Bridge towering above the water entrance to New York City.  Brightly illuminated Staten Island ferries steamed from shore to shore carrying commuters into the city.  Small buoys glittered near the water.  Two small boats, each with a single red and white light, bravely scurried among the huge ships. A large tug slowly pushed our ship up the Hudson River while another one poised nearby as a backup.

As mesmerizing as the scene was, when the ship turned, an even more incredible sight came into view.  Bathed in bright light, the Statue of Liberty, in all her splendor, greeted us.  Her glowing base supported the giant lady with a crown of light encircling her head.  High above the city her torch was a beacon to all. I could not take my eyes off her as she gazed out over the harbor.  The beauty and majesty of Miss Liberty renewed my love for America.  What a fitting way to return from an overseas adventure.

For years and years, she has welcomed Americans returning home from other countries both in good times and bad.  Imagine how soldiers felt after coming home from war and knowing she still stood tall.  Immigrants must have rejoiced at ending perilous trips and embarking on lives in a new country.  She has seen tears and heard shouts of joy.  Her symbol of freedom and acceptance has encouraged and given hope to millions.

In order to see her shining in the darkness, I had to sacrifice a little sleep but that was nothing compared to the millions who have sacrificed so that she remains the image of a country of freedom and liberty. Since I do not see her everyday, viewing her was a special event for me.  However, if I lived in the area, would I become accustomed to her presence and ignore her?  Would I look beyond her and only think of my immediate plans and problems?  Would I let others take care of her?  Would I think she was an outdated, old statue?  Would I think there were more up-to-date things we could do with her island?

As I studied the stately lady, I thought of how we must not forget what she stands for.  We should never let our freedoms be taken away because of our indifference.  We should not allow our Constitution to be snubbed for the purposes of a few. We should not think that freedom and liberty are out of date. Our country is not perfect, but after visiting many others, I know it is the only place that I would want to live.  Courageous men and women have suffered, sacrificed, and died so we can live in a country that was begun with dreams of freedom and liberties.  God bless America.

 
            Early morning light woke me at 5a.m. as we neared the port in Greenock, Scotland. As I tried to go back to sleep, a faint, unfamiliar sound wafted through the window.   Finally, I had to get up to see what was going on. A group of bagpipes serenaded us as we docked in Scotland. I could not see the musicians from our cabin but enjoyed the music and did observe a couple of chaps in kilts strolling along the dock. Passengers with balconies lined the ship and were clapping for the performers. It was such a charming welcome to Scotland.
 

            Later as we left the ship, we were greeted warmly at the visitor center by volunteer ambassadors who gave us information about free bus tours. At first I thought they were saying, three tours (because of the Scottish accent) but discovered it was three, free tours. What a delightful surprise!  Most ports hawk items, bombard passengers, and offer tours at highly inflated costs.  We immediately booked a tour for the afternoon and made plans to return.
            Residents of Greenock were so kind and friendly as we ventured into the city.  Like old friends, we visited with a couple who were walking the mall and learned that they often visit the US.  Another man offered to help Millie and me as we looked bewildered when we lost our husbands.  He laughed when we told him our problem, but they soon appeared from a shop where they had been browsing.
            Several tall steeples rose above the city as stone beacons for weary pilgrims. We anticipated touring the lovely buildings but were stunned as we approached them.  One had been turned into a flooring store.  Another had a large “For Sale” sign on the wall.  How sad it was to witness the absence of thriving congregations in the handsome, historical buildings.
             However, as we continued down the street, a colorful garden full of bright, spring flowers beckoned to us.  The gardener happily shared the names of his flowers and showed that he took pride in his work.  When Alan asked if we could visit the church, he told us to ask the man standing near the church.
            “If you ask nicely, he will let you in,” the elderly gardener told us.  With a smile he continued, “If you do not ask nicely, he will still let you in.”
             The keeper of the keys graciously opened the church and gave us some background information about the church building and the church in Scotland over the last few centuries. We had entered a newer section which was attached to the old Presbyterian Church.  Brown, wooden pews lined the sanctuary while light streamed through stained glass windows. A wooden pulpit towered high above the seats.  After the man left us and told us to look around, Alan and I each took a turn climbing the very narrow stairs to the top.  How amazing it was to survey the building from that height.  I could even see all the rows in the three walled balcony overhead.  No one would be free from the seeing eyes of the pastor.
            We learned that there had been at least one Presbyterian church in the area since the 1500’s when John Knox, a Scot, was instrumental in reforming the church in Scotland.  The first one was ten miles away so people had to trudge there each week—not an easy feat.  We also learned that many present day churches were merging because of decreased membership.  The large church we toured was well kept and had a thousand members on its roll, but only about three hundred worshiped each week. After hearing of the plight of other congregations, that was pretty good. 
            As we left the church and continued walking, we did see a Methodist church, a Church of God, and a Catholic church nearby in newer buildings. That was somewhat encouraging since I had wondered if there were any churches left in the city. 
            What we experienced in Scotland was similar to what we had seen in other areas of the United Kingdom and Europe.  Even though their church buildings were beautiful and used to be vibrant places of worship that was no longer true.  It was very sad to see how the culture had changed, and I wondered if America would endure the same fate.  How important it is to embrace our freedom of religion and to practice our faith with boldness.  If we become complacent, dismiss God, and ignore the values on which our country was founded, we will become a godless society which is ruled by individual desires and whims of the leaders.  How long would God Bless America? 
 

            A storybook town enthralled me as I looked out the windows of the ship while we were docked in Cobh, Ireland. At the edge of the dock, a four car train waited patiently to begin its journey to the nearby town of Cork. The blue, white and lime green cars saluted the striped green, white, and orange Irish flag waving in the stiff breeze.

            A few feet higher than the train was a parallel road which had small cars zipping back and forth. Bordering the road was a short rock retaining wall which protected the road from falling debris. An almost vertical wall of stone ascended completely up the incline behind the street. One area was bare, gray rock but most of it was partly or fully covered in vegetation. Shades of dark green were dotted with light yellow and golden flowers. At the top another road connected the line of stately homes overlooking the water.

         More stone walls rose above the road. Draping vines hung gracefully in front of a plain white house. Its gray roof held two chimneys while black eyebrows accented its tall windows.

         Next door, a neatly clipped hedge outlined the wall with a pink blossomed cherry tree standing sentinel by the driveway. A small forest of evergreens and bare branches separated the house from the road.  

         A white iron fence attached to the top of another stone wall was the last fortress for the two houses beyond the gates. A white one topped in gray was surrounded by scaffolding. Four gables faced the sea with additional gables on the ends of the old house. A “For sale” sign in front, pink cherry tree at the side,, and dark car at the back added interest and a possible story.

         A house width away was another interesting dwelling. The house was the same design with gables, two bay windows and a gabled door in each half. That house stood out because of its bright color. One section was a pale yellow while the other side was a more golden yellow. Both parts had white trimmed windows with decorations over four of the windows. At first, I did not notice that they had the same architectural design since the color changed the whole appearance.

         A twin very pale yellow house stood down the road. Next to it was a different type of house with several gables, a bay window, arched windows on the upper floor, and white sunroom attached to the front as an afterthought. Each two story house fit the Irish setting that was in my mind. At the very top of the hill were a few homes which looked more contemporary and seemed out of place to me.

        My favorite house was partially hidden behind a gathering of trees. It was a two story stone house just like those from books I had read about the British Isles. I searched for the lord to step out of the manor house with his riding gear. The lady would be inside with her close friend sharing afternoon tea while gazing at the sea down below. I wanted to climb the hill to join them but decided to be satisfied with my tea on the ship and my imagination.                

            Our tour bus wound through the desert village at the foot of the mountains before depositing us at the parking lot.  Our journey into the past began with crunching gravel which gave way to dusty rocks going down into the caverns of Petra.  The wide open area soon narrowed into a winding, path filled with people, horses, and horse carts.  Steep, rock walls enveloped us—blocking the sun but treating us to an impressive display of formations.  Our guide stopped frequently to point out special features and give us time to absorb the beauty all around us. After walking and walking we were finally rewarded with the spectacular view before us—the famous Treasury of Petra.  The gigantic, columned tomb carved of pinkish, red rock towered above us shining in the brilliant sun.  As I approached its entrance, I felt like a tiny ant peering up at a monstrous giant.  I could not even fathom how the ancient people had produced such a masterpiece which has stood for thousands of years. 

            Alan and I climbed the steps to enter its main room and then peered into the smaller side rooms which were rather crude in contrast to the outside walls.  Originally, the building has been made as a tomb but later became a temple and probably had other uses after that.  As I gazed out from its portico, I observed the merging of the past and the present.  Vendors hawked trinkets, tourists mounted camels, and cameras looked in every direction at the silent souvenirs from the past.  People of many nationalities stood peacefully side by side awed at the accomplishments of a long forgotten, ancient civilization.  If only we could come together peacefully with events of the present.

            Bedouins, desert people of the Middle East and northern Africa, had made their homes in the caves of the deserted city for years and years when no one else knew of its existence.  However, recently most were required to move because it was determined that they were defacing the caves by living their every day lives.  They were moved to a nearby, hilltop village which takes an hour to travel by horse, donkey, or camel.  Many now earn their living by catering to tourists.  We met one young man who was working at the café and had been born in one of the caves. When Alan asked how he had learned English so well, he said he had learned from listening to the tourists and spoke several languages.  He also told us that he had never gone to school. I thought how people learn what is important to them, but also thought of how much he could have accomplished if he had been given the opportunity to get a formal education.  However, he said that he loved living there and was very satisfied.  Perhaps our culture could learn from their simplicity.

            Unfortunately, our short time in Petra was only gave us a brief glimpse of the wonders of the incredible city.  To fully grasp its wonder, several days would be needed to traverse its streets, climb its mountains, and enter its retreats.  Petra was definitely one of the wonders and mysteries of the ancient world.  How could such a majestic, developed city just disappear and be forgotten for so long?  As I reflected on its demise, I wondered if that would ever happen to our civilization.

 Home again after an arduous but rewarding trip to Jordan and Egypt.  Day after day I was amazed at the incredible evidence of ancient civilizations remaining after thousands and thousands of years.  Walking the streets of Petra and gazing in awe at the treasury carved out of solid, red rock towering over me.  Climbing the stones on the pyramids of Giza and entering the tunnel of the queen’s pyramid.  Marveling at the hieroglyphics painted brightly on walls of tombs in the Valley of the Kings.  Feeling tiny next to gigantic, etched columns of huge temples in Karnak and Lexor.  Each day revealed extraordinary evidence of ancient people.  When I studied and taught world history, I dreamed of some day visiting those sites but never imagined that I would be able to do it. 

            As wonderful as it was to see the relics of the past, there were other memorable experiences during the trip.  Alan and I met many people who enriched our lives—both locals and those in our tour group.  Observing the lives of people in that area of the world, made me so thankful for what I have here in the US.   I can safely drink tap water and eat raw vegetables and fruits.  I have clean public restrooms where I do not have to tip someone to give me a few squares of toilet paper.  I can wear contacts since there is clean air.  I am not coated with dust each time I go outside.  Those small things became much more important when I did not have them.

            Even though I had been to Israel and heard the daily calls to pray, I had never been in a predominately Muslim country.  Mosques proliferated both countries with only a few churches in evidence.  All Muslim women had head coverings with some wearing burkas and only had their eyes showing.   Many men also wore traditional head coverings.  The constant evidence of their religion reinforced my gratitude that I live in the US where I can freely worship.  However, I thought of how our country has changed during my lifetime from predominately Christian to one where we have had many rights taken away.  Christian displays, activities, and prayer have been banned over the years.  Groups have challenged our beliefs and restricted our activities while most Christians have complained quietly or not at all.  If the area of the world where Christianity began can change to make it a very small minority, can the same happen to our country?  I feel very strongly that Christians must be more bold and active in preserving our rights while we share our beliefs with the world.  I certainly do not want our country to be transformed into a nonChristian one like I have seen recently.

 
            Mist rose across dark peaks obscuring the summits. Various hues of green covered each hill with only a smattering of white and pastel buildings dotting the landscape. Huge, gray boulders outlined the shore along the docks.  A towering, metal crane and the lofty, white masts of numerous sailboats emerged from behind the rocks. Colorful buildings topped by red, white, and gray roofs snuggled together along the blue water and crept up the nearby hills. The gray, stone tower of an old church stood sentry over the city. The tip of a nearby peninsula was formed by dark, rocky cliffs highlighted with lush, green vegetation. A lone palm tree waved from the point—a hairy head against a blue sky while gigantic rocks jutted out into the azure waters of the Caribbean Sea. Twinkling waves sparkled below filmy, white clouds which were painted across the bright, blue sky. As the breeze drifted across the ship’s deck, grayish puffs of clouds raced from the island to the open water.
 

            Earlier in the day, the scene had changed quickly and dramatically as dark, gray clouds enveloped the tall peaks in only a few minutes. Like a curtain closing at the end of the act, boats disappeared before our eyes.  Rain and fog transformed the colorful picture into a dreary bleakness.  After only a momentary break, the curtain rose, and the second act began. Sun twinkled over the aqua water, dark hills, and shimmering boats.  During an hour’s time, the curtain had risen and fallen over St. Kitts three times as the play in the harbor progressed.  St. Kitts was just one stop in our two week voyage around the Caribbean.
            Our vacation had begun in Ft. Lauderdale as family and friends had arrived from around Florida, Indiana, Ohio, and Alaska. What a wonderful time we had as we reconnected while some met for the first time.  Twelve family members spent two weeks laughing, talking, reminiscing, and making wonderful memories. What a blessed time we had!   

                                             
Psalm 135:6-7 The Lord does whatever pleases Him in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths. He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth…
          From our balcony, I gazed intently at the dark, blue Atlantic which extended to the pale blue horizon.  Scattered randomly across the sky were white clouds as pale pink streamers flowed from the rising sun. Gentle waves rolled away from our ship but only small, lake sized ones covered the rest of the ocean. I longed to know what communities of plants and animals lived below the surface, but only God knew. I imagined scores of fish, thousands of sharks, acres of seaweed, and a multitude of whales, but only random patches of seaweed floated rose to the surface as evidence of what was below.
          Alan and I had witnessed several spectacular sunrises and sunsets during our trip from Copenhagen. As we traveled from New York City into the open ocean, a brilliant red sun began falling behind the Jersey shore. Slowly it dipped from the pink sky playing hide and seek behind strips of clouds to disappear, reappear, and then almost instantly fade away. Even after it was gone, the sky looked like a fire was glowing in the distance providing us with a spectacular send off from the Big Apple.
          The following night as we were eating dinner while overlooking the water, a glorious sunset provided us with another magnificent show. A pink and blue sky was filled with fluffy clouds as the gigantic, fiery orange ball fell from the heights. It was a fire that blazed its final goodbye. We were mesmerized as it crept to the edge of the earth and then melted into the ocean after only a few seconds. The horizon remained orange and then turned pink for several minutes like an encore after a splendid performance. I ate very little because I was so enthralled by the stupendous display. One lady took a picture and others cast a brief glance at the marvelous sunset, but most seemed to ignore the fleeting beauty of the moment to indulge in another meal. There was no instant replay or taping of the event to watch later. Of course, there would be more sunsets, but none just like that one.   For those who missed the opportunity, it was gone forever.
          I wondered how many special opportunities we miss because we are just too busy.  Like watching the sunset, we may only need to stop for a moment, but the effects could be long range. We may have the opportunity to change someone’s life or to provide a spectacular memory. As we go through life, we need to stop and take time for the magnificent in the midst of the mundane.

           I pushed hard against the door to the promenade deck of the ship and was finally able to open it.  When I stood on the deck, the wind outside did not seem as intense.  Fortunately, yesterday’s rough seas had dissipated and gentle waves rocked the ship.  While looking out over the blue water, I was thrilled to see the rising sun shower diamonds in a line from the horizon to the ship.  Sparkling ripples brightened the water as a sharp contrast to the gloomy clouds of the previous day.

            The words of “How Great Thou Art” flowed from me as I thought of God and His beautiful creation.  I felt like I was in my own private cathedral with the ocean, sun, and bright sky surrounding me like magnificent stained glass windows.  God was near.

            The empty deck, calm sea, and brilliant sun all provided me with a sense of peace, but when I turned to go around the back of the ship, that changed.  Wind hit my face and dark, gloomy clouds hung in the sky which I had not expected.  I turned from the back of the ship and onto the opposite side of the ship where a different scene awaited me.  Strong winds heaved me from side to side as I attempted to walk.  The sky was bright with large, white clouds but with no evidence of the sun.  Curving around the front of the ship caused me to brace myself against the even stronger wind.  Thankfully, as I returned to where I had begun, only a light wind was blowing and the sun was rising farther into the sky. 

            Isn’t that trip around the ship like life?  We are calmly proceeding with the sun and gentle breezes when we round a corner and are bombarded with a gale which can knock us off balance.  Surges of wind and waves hammer us for a time, but as we continue plodding along, they begin to subside.  Rounding another corner can offer a surprise of unexpected calm.  Just as I experienced various conditions while taking my morning jaunt, I have also experienced many unusual and sometimes unwelcome conditions as I walk through life.

     As I sit on the deck, I see an endless expanse of water.  Light blue, slightly cloudy sky contrasts with darker blue, wavy water.  Constant, undulating waves are sprinkled with white foam as saltwater crests and falls.  There is a comforting, peaceful sameness as I gaze through the white, thin rails of the boat to the water below.  Wind blows across the deck and flips my paper as it also causes me to shiver.  A steady procession of energetic people walks the promenade deck in front of me.  Some walk briskly alone while others meander while chatting with friends.  All are getting morning exercise.

     For now, I relish the time alone to enjoy the scenery and the magnificence of God’s creation.  Clumps of brown seaweed dot some of the waves and point our way as the boat heads toward the Florida Straits.  Soon we will pass Key West and then Cuba even though we will not see them.  However, seaweed is evidence that we are near land.  I think of the early explorers who were desperate to find land after weeks or months of sailing into unknown waters.  They continually searched for signs of land while they were being tossed about.  Some were confident that land would be reached while others thought that they would be lost forever.

    Isn’t that the way we view life as we sail forward on a vast sea of possibilities?  Some periods are like the sea with small waves, clear skies, and a few signs to indicate that land is near.  The evidence may be like clumps of seaweed, far off ships, or specks of land.  We may be accurate in our assessment of the signs or we may be totally wrong such as thinking that a faraway ship is a building.  When we get a sign, we need to discern if it is valid and then explore further.  

     Like today’s calm sameness, we may feel that our lives are boring and too routine.  Often, we “invent” signs so we can convince ourselves that God is leading us in a certain way out of the boredom.  Perhaps we require a time of rest and contemplation for the rough seas ahead. 

     Instead of tiny, small clumps of seaweed, I now see a steady stream of seaweed moving past the ship.  In our lives we may observe a series of signs and events which might be pointing us in the right direction.  After special consideration, we can determine God’s plan for us.  Then as we near the shore, we can rejoice in the voyage and that we were patient and followed His path.

     Bright lights shining, large smiles, applause.  The ventriloquist’s show brought peals of laughter and loud clapping from the audience.  His dummy was taller and more muscular than he was but still perched on his leg.  His hand rested on the dummy’s neck to stimulate the mouth to open and close as he projected his voice through closed lips.  The dummy’s head turned while his eyes opened widely to add expression to his voice.  The crowd loved the show with the life sized dummy who walked away at the end of his act.

     When my husband, Alan, returned to his seat from the stage, we were both laughing as I told him that no one at home would believe that he had agreed to be a “dummy” for the ventriloquist one evening on our cruise. For the remainder of our cruise, passengers would stop him to comment on how much they enjoyed his act.  They even thought that he had rehearsed ahead of time–which he hadn’t.  One lady said that she had laughed so hard and would remember him the rest of her life.  I am still amazed that my conservative, distinguished looking husband would consent to go onstage to perform as a dummy.  Life is full of surprises.