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For Wilshire Baptist Church

In grade school in North Texas in the late 1960s we had three emergency drills: fire, tornado and bomb. That’s all we kids had to worry about aside from bad grades or being sent to the office for acting up.

We had fire drills because buildings have burned down ever since humans learned how to make fire. We had tornado drills because we’re at the southern end of “tornado alley” and tornadoes can spin up whenever the temperature shifts quickly from cold to hot or vice versa. The bomb drills were a remnant of the cold war fear that the Soviet Union might try to start World War III. That drill eventually went away, and tornado drills also faded as meteorological science improved the ability to forecast storms hours in advance. In fact, today schools sometimes will send kids home early or delay the start of school if bad weather is in the forecast.

Continue reading “This is Not a Drill”

For Wilshire Baptist Church

Leaving Wilshire on Monday night after deacons meeting, I saw ahead of me an SUV that was turning right from Abrams onto Northwest Highway. I’ve gone home that way a thousand times but I chose not to this time, because the SUV was traveling without lights. When it slowed at the intersection, the brake lights lit up, but before and after that, the SUV was almost invisible. I took another route because I was tired and afraid.

Continue reading “Dimwits and Headlights”

For Wilshire Baptist Church

“Want to race?” I ask Ross as he settles into the bike next to me.

“No, I don’t think so,” he smiles.

It’s a silly question from me because neither of us is going anywhere. He’s on a stationary bike and I’m on a hand bike — in a room in a medical building on the Bush Turnpike.

Continue reading “Church on Tuesday”