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ON NEW LEGS God seemed so far away, I was never sure He ever heard my prayers. Both as a Catholic and later as an Episcopalian I believed in Him and I prayed to Him many times with tears and pleadings. But if He ever spoke, or I just couldn’t hear Him. So, it was apparent to me that all my achievements and blessings were just good luck. Blindness is like that. I had divorced my husband of 15 years when he abandoned us for a younger woman. My youngest was only 6 months old, and my oldest, Paul Jr., was six then. After that, I focused on raising the children through many hard years when a can of spam and a little Saimin were a blessing and sixty hours of work was an average week. I never remarried. Now My children are all well adjusted adults with children of their own—All except Paul Jr., the oldest and most abandoned, and deeply hurt. Growing up, Paul did and demanded whatever he wanted, mostly illegal, just to get his Police-Officer-dad’s attention. He carried that attitude into his marriage. He and his wife, both on drugs, had broken into a tourist’s car and removed $200. They were caught in the act, arrested and charged. But before sentencing, they left the islands to avoid conviction and settled in California. That was late 1999. For over five years they lived in dirty, dusty, run-down motel rooms, moving every three weeks. Life itself had become a prison. They were thousands of miles away from the island the loved, from family and friends. They couldn’t get permanent work, fearing their social security numbers would betray them, constantly looking over their shoulders, afraid to show their faces, trusting no one, imprisoned in their little smelly rooms, Their only contact was me. I would call daily to cheer them and assure myself that they were eating and OK. How could I not help them? They were like a couple of helpless wounded birds, and, though I couldn’t afford it, I sent them money. My dedication must have been like a fervent prayer. And God listened and threw the switch of providence. One day in 2000, while waiting at a bus stop, Paul and his wife met a Christian couple who talked to them about forming a Polynesian group in their church. It was instant friendship, and soon thereafter, they enthusiastically accepted the Lord. Then, instead of cowering in a dark motel, they found meaning and strength. For They read the Bible daily and whenever the church doors opened, they were there. Church members, provided housing and transportation and eventually they found an apartment and part time work. Then in 2002 their beautiful daughter Anuhea was born. Life for them was as good as it was going to get. About a year later, Paul’s wife returned to Maui with the baby to join her family who was going through their own crisis. Paul, however, stayed back and I continued to help him. It became a struggling burden to carry both my needs and his. I became resentful, but didn’t know what else to do. I had no one to turn to, not even my family, who knew my plight. They wouldn’t even talk about it. I attended an Episcopalian church faithfully. I prayed, but without conviction, unsure of being heard, or answered. I had no understanding of the Bible, never owned one, or read one. I didn’t even know how to say a blessing during meals. Years passed, and my burden got heavier and heavier. Then, in November of 2004 I met Turkana, a godly man from Fiji. We quickly became close friends and spent many hours together as he guided me through the Bible. Like a starving child, I feasted on every word, wanting all it had to offer, growing in love as the stories became a living part of me and gave sweet meaning to my life, bursting forth in floods of praise and song. Turkana and I were sure the neighbors could hear us; my children must have thought their mom was acting a little strange: un-restrained singing is unlike her, and what’s she doing looking happy. My thoughts were constantly on the scriptures and my relationship with my new-found father. What unspeakable joy as songs and thanksgiving poured out in a river of love. A month later, on December 11, Turkana surprised me with, “are you willing to accept Jesus into your life?” I looked at him for a second and I said, “yes.” Suddenly my mind was filled with questions Was I supposed to shout for joy? Or confess my sins. Didn’t I already know Him and believe in Him by joining a church, being baptized, taking communion, confessing my sins and obeying the10 Commandments? So when I said yes, I thought surely I must be offending God and lightning from Heaven should strike with a tremendous crash of thunder. But no! It was quiet and normal. The only sounds were the neighbor dogs barking and the traffic. Everything was just as calm as ever! All of these things I’d been doing were service to an exterior God. With the “yes” Jesus became part of me, revealing the hope of his calling and the riches of His sacrifice and unsearchable love, dwelling inside. I’d been born to eternal life —after 60 years. It was the beginning of a forever love story. A day after Christmas 2004, Tukana asked me another question, a very simple one: “can you tell me where your son Paul is?” I nodded my head, yes. I told him exactly where Paul was. I explained to him the reason he left the island, the Maui which he loved so much, and that he dreams of returning, but he was waiting another two years for his Statute of Limitation to expire. I told him of the constant struggles my son and I went through and how much it has become a financial and emotional burden to me and how it was tearing my heart apart that one son was away from my family. At the conclusion of my story, I felt drained, hoping Tukana would just thank me for confiding in him. Instead, he thought for a few seconds, then told of Jesus calming a storm and explained that Jesus will calm my storms of fear and desperation. As he spoke, tears of love and hope filled my eyes and spilled across my cheeks. I could feel the closeness and comfort of Jesus, his hand in mine. I knew Paul’s problem could not be solved by running and hiding, and I was helping Paul in violation of the law of the land and of God. But now, after years of lonely torment, I could at last resist fear by simply trusting Jesus. We prayed fervently for forgiveness, guidance and wisdom to know how to bring Paul home, and for complete release from unbearable burden. Then, like the quieted storm, my heart grew calm as the burden was suddenly lifted. For Jesus was there, holding my hand, calming the storm. In early January 2005, I confronted Paul, that it was time to come home, that I would no longer help him. He ranted and raved, saying I was abandoning him, and didn’t love him any more. He wanted 3 more months to see Las Vegas. He said someone is going to set him up and have the police waiting for him at the airport. He tried to get my sympathy by saying he would live on the streets and in shelters and disappear in the crowd. He refused to listen and hung up. Tukana and I continued to pray for Paul’s return and for strength and courage to face the consequences and for favor so that he might finally begin life in 2005 free of crime and conviction. I also received prayer from Margaret, the Pastor’s wife. She, being mother herself, knew how it feels to have a child so far away from home. Her prayer was powerful and awesome! I few days later, I spoke with Paul, braced for a tirade. Instead, he was actually calm and liked the idea He voluntarily agreed to return home after 5-1/2 years to face the consequences, to once again be with his wife and little girl. He even placed a call from California to a Maui attorney to learn of the seriousness of crimes similar to his. They were serious, and so was he. He purchased his air tickets, began disposing his household goods. The plane landed in broad daylight on February 5th with no incident. Paul tried to be inconspicuous, but it was difficult because he had a lot of tattoos on his head, neck, entire arms. I thanked the Lord for being with him on his flight and for his safe return. Paul was home to hi beloved Maui at last. He went to prison in June awaiting sentencing in November. Charged with crimes of theft, forgery and bail jumping, which normally would be 5 to 10 years he will only receive a year in jail, credited with time served, and with probation will be released on June 23, 2006. We continue to pray and have faith for miracles and favors that the final outcome will be according to God’s will. The irony is there is no Statute of Limitation when one has already been charged. We thank the Lord for giving us the strength, courage and wisdom and for inspiring Paul to face the consequences. Paul took all the blame for both he and his wife. From the moment of hua arrest, he reaffirmed his life to the Lord, attends the prison services at every opportunity, and reads his Bible daily. At 33 years old, he has finally grown up. Whereas he was very negative and angry, he has now found peace and confidence in creating a new life according to God?s purpose and will. The inner turmoil he went through while growing up hasdisappeared, and most importantly, he no longer blames his dad for leaving us. Paul, had lost his right leg (below the knee) in a motorcycle accident in 1997, His prosthesis broke apart at the top and at the bottom and is barely kept together with tape. The bottom of the leg is raw from rubbing against the inside of the prosthesis. He couldn’t afford a new leg, but the prison is providing one for him, valued at over $8,000. God has once again given favor. As for me, I thank the Lord every day for His blessings and His love. I devote my entire life to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ and He gets all the credit for turning my unbearable life into joy. It’s like we are all walking on new legs. |
