"Twenty-six miles a-cross the sea; Santa Catalina is a-waitin' for me. Santa Catalina, the island of romance, romance, romance, romance." *
That little piece of land off the coast of Southern California, surrounded by ocean will forever hold a special place in my heart, along with the islanders I came to know and love. I lived there less than half a year, yet my stay there facilitated a deep, profound learning curve in my relationship with God. Allow me to explain...
A native Southern Californian, I was eighteen years old and had recently been reawakened in my heart and spirit to press-in to my relationship with God through Jesus Christ. This was in the middle of the Jesus People movement and I was attending a weekly Wednesday night meeting for teens and college-aged people in Thousand Oaks. We met in an old building that had once been a dance studio, now rented by a group of young men (think 'hippies'). These meetings were a part of Shepherd Ministries, headed by Tom Brock. Tom has an evangelist's heart and would often meet young men, whether out on surfboards in the Pacific Ocean or on the side of a road, and offer them a meal and a place to stay at the New Life House (ye old dance studio).
I am still an introvert, but my younger self was much more so. It took me by surprise one day when Tom approached me with an offer: to move to Santa Catalina Island and help begin an outreach to the island's youth--primarily the high school students. He offered little in details, and frankly, I don't think I asked any questions. I just said I'd pray about it.
Praying about this offer caused my heart to become excited about this unknown place and its people. As I tried to explain this opportunity to my parents, I was hoping they could see my maturity and eagerness in wanting to go. I received two very different reactions. My mom said no; no way--no how--nada. Well, maybe not just the 'no' words, but that was the basic message I received loud and clear. I think that her, um, 'hesitance' was due mostly to the fact that I had just interviewed for, and been offered, a full-time job at a large corporation in Westlake Village. The God-prepared fact was that while they wanted to hire me, the department was not ready for me to begin working--for several months. At the interview I explained to my almost-boss about my opportunity to go to Catalina and he said that it would be no problem. I was rather shocked. In fact, he said to go and have fun and they'd call me when they were ready to have me start. Almost too good to be true! Mom wasn't warming up to the idea. My dad, however, expressed calm excitement. He gave me his blessing. And somehow, (thanks, Dad) I was given the okay to proceed with plans to move.
Two other young people, Debbie and Steve, were my ministry mates as we settled into a kind of routine on the island. Through Tom's contacts there, the Miller family opened their home and their hearts to three young strangers . When we first arrived, Debbie and I slept in their livingroom on the hide-a-bed while Steve bunked with the two sons, downstairs. After two weeks, it was evident that two young women sleeping in the small beach home's combination livingroom/diningroom/kitchen/bathroom could not continue, so Debbie and I moved. Several more times, in fact. We felt somewhat like we were ping-ponging back and forth across the little town of Avalon:
next was the Congregational Church's basement nursery room, where we slept in sleeping bags on the cement floor. We trudged a block down to the beachside women's shower room where, for a quarter, we could take a hot shower. That lasted for two weeks, until we were offered to stay at...
the hillside home of an older woman who attended the church. It took us just over 100 hillside stair steps to go up to her downstairs guest room, where our perk was to have a picture window view of the Casino and harbor every night! And because her family was coming to visit, we were only there for a week. I never met her, but bless her heart. That was our favorite place--well, not the stairs.
The last place that I parked my suitcases at was located kitty-corner from the Congregational Church. The room was on the second story an an old, turreted hotel that hadn't seen a face-lift for some time. We had to walk down the hall to use the communal toilet and shower rooms. Our little room was only large enough for a small, upright dresser and a twin bed. We had a crossed-legged cot wedged in-between the bed and the other wall of the room for me to sleep on. That took up most of the floor space, so only one person could get up and get dressed at a time!
Having to move often in a short amount of time helped shape my outlook on life. Whatever happened was akin to an adventure. It was laugh--or cry about it, and Debbie and I learned to find the funny in (most) things. One night, while 'camping-out' in the basement of the church, Debbie and I heard the church's organ, located in the always unlocked prayer chapel above us, being played. It was nearing midnight and the melodies being played caused us to picture scenes from an old black-and-white movie with Lon Chaney, Phantom of the Opera.
Debbie and I got jobs working at Lloyd's of Avalon, a famous homemade confections shop with a walk-up window around the side of the building where we sold drinks, tacos, burgers, fries, etc. to all the hungry tourists. Lloyd trained me. I honed my basic math skills very quickly there as we had an old-fashioned cash register that only allowed you to push down the total amount. Paper, pencil and repeatedly adding up orders took care of chasing away my fear of numbers! And every once-in-awhile a famous celebrity would come into the candy shop. I liked John Wayne--he'd buy candy in the candy shop and then share it with us by throwing a few pieces around!
On our days off, Debbie and I would go sit down at the beach, I would play my guitar and we'd sing all the worship songs I knew how to play. Sometimes we'd have some of the tourists sit down with us and make requests. Like, "Hey, can you play ...?" I'd just laugh--I knew only worship songs and ONLY the ones that I could play with D/G/A/E chords. A few times we'd have a young know-it-all come and want to sit and argue about our faith with us. Sadly, I would spend time going head-to-head while Debbie listened. I only pray that God was able to redeem those times and woo those people to Himself. I did learn that He gives boldness to replace fear. This Little Miss Much Afraid did things she had only daydreamed of.
I learned to put my spiritual muscles to work through prayer while living on Catalina. Working in such a centrally located business such as Lloyd's allowed me to see everyone go to work or go home from work, everyday. That's how I knew who worked where and who was new to town. I had already noticed a young couple who were newer to the island but not working anywhere in particular. I thought they must be just bumming around town. One night after work, as I began my walk back to my room at the hotel, I heard a shriek. I looked around but couldn't see anyone and as I continued walking further away from the front street businesses, the street became darker. Another shriek stopped me in my tracks. I began to walk back and this time I heard loud whimpering. Then a woman's voice began desperately begging...'no, no, please NO!' I began asking God to help that person--but the crying and shrieking continued. I felt so helpless. Why would I put myself possibly in harm's way when I don't know what the situation is? So I shouted out 'In the name of Jesus, you stop right now!' The shrieking ceased. As I turned back toward home, a man's figure came out of the bushes across the street and walked toward the bar. That young man. The next day, I saw this young man and woman, separately, in town. I didn't see them together after that.
Another fixture on the island is Rosie's. It's a small fish market at the end of the pier that was owned and run by Rosie Cadman and her family. Everyone knew and loved Rosie. What a sweet woman. Debbie and I tried our hand at fishing for our dinner-once! Rosie sold us bait (squid) and we tried fishing off the pier. When our first bite came--it truly was a bite's worth! The tiny fish was wriggling and Debbie didn't have the heart to take it off the hook. I guess we hadn't planned this out very far! Finally getting the small hook out, we threw back the fish and swore we wouldn't do that again.
As I have been reminiscing, I can think of many more small moments and people that, collectively, caused me to leave my heart in Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, CA. I was mesmerized by the beautiful orange garibaldi fish that stayed close to the rocks near shore. And can we talk about the flying fish?! They will be on my list of things to ask God about. Through the years, I always thought it would be so wonderful to share this island with my family. But, alas. Some of the many things that anchor my heart to this island are no longer. People move and people die. Businesses go out of business. Buildings get renovated or torn down. Daniel and I have gone to Catalina a couple of times to celebrate anniversaries so I was able to find Rosie still working at the Fish Market and caught up with her briefly about the family. The Millers sold their bike business but I found a daughter-in-law at one of the shops. Many things I didn't have time or money to enjoy back when I was young and living there I was finally able to do with Daniel. We enjoyed a jazz concert at the Casino and took an island tour in the back of a jeep so I could finally see the island buffalo. We walked through the botanic gardens up to the Wrigley Memorial.
What a beautiful island--then and now. My stay on Catalina offered me an opportunity to be someplace where no one knew me, so I had to forge new relationships; where I had to earn money to eat; where I was dependent on God moving people's hearts to allow me a place to sleep and call home; where I grew dependent on God for big and small things; where my relationship with Him grew dearer to me; where I learned that I can trust Him for anything--because He is faithful.
I will end with this: just getting to Catalina could be a learning experience in trust. It was a two-hour boat ride over, and there were times when it was beautiful blue ocean and dolphins swimming along side the boat. But when there was a storm, the ocean was gray and rough, with rolling and pitching waves. I would get out my guitar and start singing 'Yes His love takes good care of me. Yes His love takes good care of me. When the wind blows, the waves roll, the storm is on the sea, I'll be safe. His love takes care of me." All the while the boat is pitching and rocking. But you know something? I still believe it. Because of His great love, I can trust He will take good care of me.