2. Malibu and “The Greatest Generation”

“Surfing is the deceptively simple act of riding a breaking ocean wave on a surfboard.  In reality, as a fundamental physical feat, surfing on a wave is a phenomenal conjunction of forces; the mathematics of it are profoundly complex.  However, as an expression of the essential relationship between man and nature, surfing is unique in its clarity.  And as a metaphor for life and just about anything life throws at us, it is unparalleled.  Life is a wave.  Albert Einstein even said so.”

Drew Kampion, Stoked! A History of Surf Culture

My earliest memories of the beach date back to the late 1950s when our family would go to Incline Beach in Santa Monica. We lived just up the hill on 22nd Street until I was almost five years old. I don’t remember much around those early years, but the picture below of my sister Terry and I in the back of our 1947 Plymouth Woody captures a glimpse. I do remember looking very forward to our trips to the beach to play in the ocean and sand.

Lunch time at Santa Monica’s Incline Beach, circa 1958

The beach was a place of complete freedom—open space to roam and recreation in the purest sense of the word. There were very few rules—mostly around water safety—and lots of ways to spend your time, unencumbered by the usual restrictions at home. Life became a very simple event, focused on playing in the ocean, warming up and drying off in the sand, and then eating and drinking whatever Mom and Dad happened to throw into the car that day (which was not much if it was just Dad!).

The Greatest Generation, a book written by Tom Brokaw, is about those who grew up in the United States during the Great Depression, and then went on to win a global war that cost 60 million lives.  In the opening chapter, Brokaw declared:

I think this is the greatest generation any society has ever produced.”

Both my father, Jack Mulkey, and father-in-law, John D’Zurko, were a part of this fraternity, born into the false sense of prosperity of the 1920s, raised through the depression in the 1930s, and sent overseas to fight for global freedom in World War II in the 1940s. They were humble Americans who did not ask for a pat on the back for what they had accomplished for us all. Both were bound by common values of loyalty to their country, selfless service, and a desire to preserve world order.

When my son Matthew turned 16, I looked long and hard at him to try and conceptualize the decisions and experiences Dad had at that age. Imagine leaving this letter for your widowed mother about leaving home to fight in a world war [1]:

Dear Mom:

I have joined the navy with Todd. I just couldn’t turn down an opportunity like this to join with a good friend the same age as I am. We are leaving for San Diego this morning. I know you want me to make good and this is the only way I will ever do it, don’t worry about me I am in the best hands in the world. I will probably be home in about 21 days because I will be in quarantine for 3 weeks (looks like I’ll miss UCLA’s opening game with T.C.U.). I will write first chance I get don’t worry about me.

P.S. I am now 17, so any body that you talk to or asks you I am 17 and you signed for me, this will help very much.

P.S. You can get Sam to do the work around the house he’s a pretty good gardener and would be glad to work around the house.

[1] Unedited letter written by my father, Jack Mulkey.

Navy Days

Dad’s home life in the 1930s had its hardships beyond the Great Depression. At age 13, he lost his father to Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease), leaving him to grow up fast as the only man in the house (older sister Sallye was a big help). Three years later after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Dad and his good friend Todd Bernarding enlisted in the U.S. Navy (a month shy of his sixteenth birthday).

Both lied about their age (you had to be seventeen to join), signed each other’s enlistment forms, and the next thing Dad knew, he was headed to the U.S. Naval Training Station in San Diego for two weeks of basic training. Amazingly, no ID was required through the entire process. As Dad would tell it, “At that point of the war, we were simply throwing bodies at the problem in the Pacific.”

After surviving basic training his life was dramatically altered in a mind-boggling way. He was first shipped to the Naval Air Radio School in Alameda, California for a month to get schooled in Morse code.  Then back to San Diego (Naval Air Station North Island) for a week of skeet shooting under the command of Lieutenant Robert Stack who starred in the television series The Untouchables.

Once he had mastered the art of hitting a moving clay target, he traveled back to San Francisco for his official ship assignment as an Aviation Radioman Petty Officer 3rd Class sailor. Suddenly, he was with 2,000 others on the 488’ Dutch Freighter Bloemfontein, cruising out of San Francisco Bay to Noumea, New Caledonia, an island 900 miles off the east coast of Australia. He was below deck seasick for the entire two-week journey! Somewhere in there his sixteenth birthday came and went.

Flight crews ready to launch off the USS Saratoga (Dad is 2nd from right in the 2nd row)

From Noumea, Dad climbed aboard the monstrous aircraft carrier USS Saratoga, which had by chance been in San Diego harbor at the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Before he knew what had hit him, he was flying off the Saratoga’s deck in a two-man Douglas SBD Dauntless aircraft on submarine patrol missions while manning the trigger of a twin 30-caliber machine gun. His initial flight at sea was the first time he had flown in a plane. Ever.

Here is an excerpt from a handwritten note [2] Dad sent me on part of this:

As I remember I went to radio school for about 1 month, mainly to learn Morse code.  Then went to gunnery school for a week on North Island [San Diego] where I shot 1,000 rounds of skeet.  Really sore shoulder!  That’s where my deafness started [note: also from shooting the machine gun on the aircraft]. When I finally got on the Saratoga & started flying there was a radio silence & no contact was allowed between plane & ship.  So much for radio school. I think I flew about every other day.  This was for submarine patrol to guard the fleet (at like 4 hours a flight).  You just hoped you had a good navigator for a pilot.  With no ship to plane contact, and the fact that you were well out of sight of the fleet most of the time, if you missed the fleet on return ‘that was all she wrote.’

When I first got on the Saratoga we were the only main line carrier afloat.  The rest were all in dry dock being repaired.  So we would try to let the Japanese see us and [then] take off, hoping they would think we had more than one carrier available.  That was ok with me.

[2] Unedited.

It is hard to comprehend what would be going through his head in all this. Surely it was a bit of a blur. He told me about shipmates whose aircraft never did find their way back to the Saratoga. At the battle of Rabaul in the Caroline Islands (covered by Times and Newsweek), their planes would have just enough gas to sputter back onto the carrier deck. Ironically, that area where those battles took place (Truk Lagoon) is now a major tourist attraction for scuba diving among the many shipwrecks left behind.

After somehow surviving his service on the USS Saratoga, Dad was assigned to a Carrier Aircraft Service Unit (CASU) by his request.  These ships were highly strategic to the turning of the tide against Japan in the Pacific by providing a mobile organization to keep U.S. Navy planes in the air.  Dad was stationed at several locations on the west coast of the U.S., including San Nicolas Island (75 miles off the coast of Los Angeles).

CASU Unit on San Nicholas Island, circa 1944 (Dad on far right)

At the time the war ended (VJ-Day on August 15, 1945) Dad’s CASU was in transit to Adak Island in Alaska, which he suspected was preparation for an invasion of Japan. They spent a month in Adak before returning to San Francisco to celebrate the end of the war.

He received his Honorable Discharge (C1766958) on November 18, 1945, three years following his enlistment, and just after turning nineteen. Like others so lucky to return home, Dad took advantage of the G.I. Bill to test out of high school and enroll in college while living “high off the hog,” as he described it, on $20 per week compensation from the U.S. government. 

The G.I. Bill covered him for two years at Santa Monica City College and two years at UCLA. Below is a picture of dad taken at Ciros Night Club on Sunset Boulevard (circa 1944), which was the place to be seen during that era in Los Angeles.

Dad (left) in a scene right out of a Humphrey Bogart movie

Malibu

Following the war, Dad became part of a select few individuals who were pioneering the sport of surfing in Southern California. Malibu was the place to be for post-WWII era surfers when summertime south swells swept up the coast for a long day in the water while the heat of the white sand beach awaited to warm you back up.  It had to seem too good to be true after all he had been through.

There are many names that dad mentioned over the years that were part of his Malibu experience—several he went to Santa Monica High School with [3]:

  • Bob Simmons – a Cal Tech graduate who worked as a mathematician at Douglas Aircraft; he was the “mad scientist” who pioneered lightweight surfboard design at that time.
  • Buzzy Trent – one of the early big wave riders in Hawaii in the 1950s.
  • Charley French – Dad’s best friend for surfing and skiing, he became a legend in triathlon circles, setting the age group record at the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon at 60 years old.
  • Dave Sweet – made my first surfboard, which I received on Christmas day at eight years old. It was a beauty, and I remember the resin still being sticky that morning when I found it.
  • Joe Quigg – one of the more prominent surfers to graduate from Santa Monica High School; he became a well-known manufacturer of surfboards in the 60s and 70s.
  • Kathy Kohner – her father, Frederick Kohner, wrote the 1957 novel Gidget about his daughter’s real-life adventures on the beach at Malibu.
  • Matt Kivlin – Dad was very fond of Matt, who many viewed as the best wave rider of his day at Malibu. It is said that Micky Dora fashioned his style after Matt.
  • Peter and Corney Cole -– Peter was a swimming star at Stanford who got into big wave surfing. Brother Corney studied at Chouinard Art Institute and made a career in film animation.
  • Peter Lawford – of Hollywood actor fame; he would periodically show up in the lineup.
  • Pete Peterson and Lorrin Harrison – who were both featured in the film Riding Giants and were some of the first regulars surfing at San Onofre in the 1940s. I got to surf with both!
Charley French and Dad logging two Simmons concave’s up from the beach at Palos Verdes

As Charley French told me the story of making these two boards, he and dad went to General Veneer Manufacturing in L.A. to purchase the balsa wood which they then glued together into large planks. They hauled them over to Bob Simmons’ house and watched as he shaped them into the concave surfboards. Dad and Charley then took the finished boards home to be glassed and sanded in the backyard, ready for the trip to Palos Verdes (above).

As the world recovered from the ravages of WWII, these early trailblazers of surfing at Malibu had an ideal setting for the birth of a craze that would quickly sweep across the globe. Surfrider Beach at Malibu had the ideal weather, a long stretch of fine white sand, and waves as clean and perfectly breaking as one could find along the Southern California coast.

A spirit and camaraderie developed among these early surfers which boiled life down to its most simple elements. Many called this the birth of the surf culture; a new way of life, which was outside the usual societal boundaries in Southern California at that time. Dad never spoke of it that way. They just survived a world war, many of them in a direct line of fire. It was the freedom they had fought for, and they were going to make damn sure they enjoyed it.

As progress would have it, this unique setting did not last long. With the popularity of the Hollywood movie production Gidget (along with several others that followed), thousands were soon flocking to Surfrider Beach at Malibu to test their skills at the new emerging sport. In 1959 our family joined the migration south and moved 55 miles down Pacific Coast Highway to a sleepy beach-side community, Corona del Mar (CdM). Mom and Dad found a quaint beach house just four blocks from Big Corona State Beach. It even had a shower in the garage to wash the sand off. For all of us, it was a dream come true!

The beach soon became my home base. It was where my friends and I always seemed to end up when we had free time. It was ground zero for the path my life took until graduating from Corona del Mar High School in 1973.

Three generations in front of the plane Dad flew off the deck of the USS Saratoga.
Dear Mom

[3] The picture on the cover of surfingforbalance.com is the only picture I have of my dad, Jack B Mulkey, surfing. It was taken at Malibu circa 1949 by Doc Ball. Doc was an early pioneer in surfing photography and was was one of the leaders in establishing surfing on the west coast. He helped organize the Palos Verdes Surf Club, where dad often surfed in the late 40s and early 50s. Here is the original photo:

JackMulkey_malibu1948_600x288

Dad is riding a 10’9″ Bob Simmons Plywood Foam surfboard (called a “Foam Sandwich”). This surfboard was a major breakthrough from the Redwood Planks they had been riding, which could weigh in over 100 pounds.  An exact replica of this surfboard sold for $40,000 at the Hawaiian Islands Vintage Surf Auction in 2009.  Dad did not even know this picture was taken but ran across it in a photo album at a party at Doc Ball’s house. As he told me the story, a friend yelled out to him, “Hey Mulkey, check this out, your picture is in here!”.

Mark Brown Digital Arts did the wonderful recoloring work.

Prologue: Waxing Up

“What we do in life echoes in eternity.”
-Russell Crowe as Maximus in, Gladiator

Life has been a series of waves thundering through my life, maturing me successively throughout my walk on this earth. As a lifelong surfer who revels in the ride, each wave requires a finely-tuned balancing act to ride to its conclusion and successfully kick out. Sometimes I fall and it can take me a while to acknowledge what went wrong and paddle back out, scanning the horizon for the next test of endurance. My patience is tried as I submit to the lulls and dream of the perfect wave coming. It will be better than I can imagine, I’m sure. Soon, another set arrives out of nowhere to shake me back into reality, and I paddle like crazy to drop in.

Growing up at the beach in Corona del Mar in the 1960s was an idyllic environment for a surfer grom like me. We had a tight-knit community of friends who gathered daily at the beach, constantly anticipating the next big south swell. Best of all, my dad was one of the lucky WWII sailors in the Navy who returned home and found a lifestyle of surfing at Malibu while benefiting from the GI Bill. He had me out on his Dave Sweet surfboard riding waves at San Onofre earlier than I can recall. It was my time surfing with Dad on the weekends at San Onofre that most influenced my early years. As I grew into adulthood, I began to realize that I was at my very best when I was in the water on my surfboard. It became my identity.

The surfing culture I grew up with in Corona del Mar soon clashed with my adult career when I relocated to Silicon Valley in 1990 to become a cog in the high technology revolution that was taking off like an Elon Musk rocket ship. The opportunities were endless, but so was the work! I found myself encased in the innovation capital of the world where there was no longer enough margin in my life to hang out at the beach and wait for waves. Fast-forward from floppy disks to flash memory and I found myself spending the next quarter century raising a family in a marketing career that paid me well to drive the network computing revolution for the emerging world wide web. We called ourselves the “dot in dot com” at Sun Microsystems. Flying high in jet planes around the world, I was in a constant struggle to balance the demands of my career with the needs of my health and the joy of raising my family, including my wife Marla (of 30 years) and two wonderful children (Marisa and Matthew).

Surfing was my escape from the incessant “real-time” processing of riding the Silicon Valley Express train each day at work. Like the pressure release valve at the now-defunct San Onofre Nuclear power plant, the ocean set me free from the urgency of my career while providing a connection point for my kids to join in. Getting wet drew me closer to God and his magnificent creation as I delighted in the powerful waves of Northern California. As this inner-battle of work/life balance consumed me, I launched “Surfing for Balance in Silicon Valley” in 2014 to blog about my drive to stay afloat in the valley of endless work. That blog eventually led me to writing this book, Surfing in Heaven, to consolidate my experiences through it all.

Surfing in Heaven is both a metaphor and a vision for how I invest my time and energy each day. As I was pouring myself into the blog about my struggles to find balance, I kept coming back to the Bible and what God’s Word would have to say. Jesus spoke about storing up treasures in heaven rather than investing in what we have here on earth (1). Like cymbals in a marching band, this rang out loud for me. By starting each day with my eternal future in mind, I found myself able to navigate the many perilous waves I was riding at the time. Heaven became a game-changer!

As the waves kept coming with increasingly shortened intervals, I was able to gain a radical new perspective on how I invested my time and energy. The chaos of the storm settled. It was like going back to the 1960s and surfing without a leash. My life became untethered from earthly expectations. All at once I had peace of mind about laying the groundwork each day for my life to come in Heaven. I was stoked!

To be clear, I believe that I will go surfing when this life on earth ends. In Heaven. Surely the God who created the heavens and the earth (2) could arrange for a little surfing. I think so, as what awaits us in heaven will be far greater than what our imagination can explore (3). More on that coming.

Marisa applying some “Cold Sticky Bumps” for a session at Steamer Lane

Waxing up a surfboard is an often-overlooked part of surfing that helps to describe this time of preparation for our life to come. When I am going out at Steamer Lane in a large northwest winter swell on a cold January day (a birthday tradition), waxing up is a strategic time to get ready before paddling out.

This process starts by closely reviewing the surf, tide, wind, crowd, currents, and tactic for paddling out. Steamer Lane is not to be taken lightly on a big swell. Next, I thoroughly wax the top of my board. With the amazing variety of surf wax available today (by water temperature), this takes just a minute or two. Finally, I firmly attach my leash and launch.

Waxing your board in the 1960s was much more involved. Since we all had longboards, they required a lot more wax. There were no surf leashes, so hanging on to your board was largely dependent on how well you waxed up. Parowax (called “paraffin”) was the only choice for wax and was a far cry from today’s sticky surf wax.

Paraffin was hard as a rock, so you first had to soften it up to avoid shaving off the wax that was already there. Then you would dip your board into the ocean to harden the surface wax while roughing it up with a couple handfuls of wet sand. Applying the paraffin required serious elbow grease, being careful to cover the nose (for hanging five), the tail (for cranking bottom turns), and the rails by the nose (for turtle diving big waves as you paddled out). Extra wax was needed there.

I would then walk the top of my board a few times with bare feet at the shores edge to get some of the wax onto the bottom of my feet (no booties yet) while rubbing in some more wet sand to rough the surface one final time. I carried an extra bar in my trunks, as you had to repeat the process a time or two if you were out for a long surf session—especially if you lost your board to the beach (the ride in would slicken the wax). Suffice to say, paraffin was better suited for candle making!

Like properly waxing up for a good surfing session, I believe this life is laying the groundwork for our life to come in Heaven. In a sense, it’s our dress rehearsal. We are waxing up for our eternal ride home. This is not our home, Heaven is. Our life here is very short (4), but what we do while we are here really does matter (5). Big time. Jesus emphasized this to His disciples at the last supper just before His death when He told them He was preparing a mansion for each one of them in Heaven (6). He is doing the same for each one of us.

My hope is that you can embrace my journey while catching a few waves with me along the way. I pray that when you kick out of the final wave, you will believe that Jesus Christ is who He said he is.

Time to get out your wax and prepare for the ride of your life!

“Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.”
Colossians 3:2

“That’s not fair …”

“I’ll be there.  We’ll run between the raindrops,”

— Roy Lambertson

I am at a loss to express the void we all feel over the sudden and unexpected passing of Roy Lambertson (obit). Roy left an everlasting impression on me; I took Roy for granted. He was a man of few words yet strong actions who was never looking to be in the limelight.

Another grueling 7-by-7 workout in the books

Roy seemed to be the perfect mix of quiet humility with a wit and humor that just plain made you want to be around him. Whenever I pulled into the parking lot to meet for a run and spotted Roy’s Subaru wagon, I knew it was going to be a good one.

Running in our 7-by-7 community (a Los Altos running club) will never be the same without Roy. In his memory, I want to celebrate some of the things I will miss most about him.

  • Deadpan jokes and pranks. 

Everyone surely would agree that this was Roy’s sweet spot. He was relentless with his humor yet seemed to catch you when you least expected it in a way you could not have anticipated.  I learned when an email from Roy appeared, I should immediately read it. Here’s a good one:

“Subject: Displaced Ursus Americanus Mandible

You guys are pranksters, so you might appreciate this:

On my last trip to Yosemite, I found a bear jawbone, complete with large teeth.  This morning I placed it just off a trail in Hidden Villa.  The idea is to get someone to find it and identify it and cause a sensation.  Black bears in Los Altos Hills!  In a Summer Camp!

           Of course, this is wishful thinking.  We shall see,

  • Humility.

There are many examples of this! Roy stayed in the background and did not draw attention to his accomplishments (like climbing all of the 14,000+ foot peaks in California). His consistently outstanding performances year after year at the Nisene Marks Half Marathon are but one example. Roy almost always placed in the top 2 in his age group and blitzed a course that included 3,100 feet of climbing over a very challenging single-track trail with roots and rocks galore.  Here’s just one result I found:

2013 at 52 years old he placed 2nd in his age group and 9th overall (156 runners) averaging 7:53 per mile. Huh?!

Roy closing in to steamroll Dino at the Kaiser San Francisco Half marathon.
  • Quiet [but effective] approach to challenges.

I was witness to this year after year in Roy’s role as Course Director for the Spartan Turkey Trot.  Whether he was lacing the light poles with colored ribbon the night before, lecturing me about a speed bump on the course, or showing up at 4:30 am on race day to subvert attempted sabotage on our course, Roy was constantly “covering my butt” on details I hadn’t even thought about.

Roy rewiring the Christmas tree lights at 5 am on race day — saving the 2014 Spartan Turkey Trot from disaster.
  • Wit and humor.

When Roy spoke, I learned to listen carefully. This email response to Dino’s proposed “22 miles on the track” (Subject: monotony run) strikes that cord perfectly:

Monotony is not always bad; my wife and I have been practicing it for years.  Wait, that’s monogamy.  Close, but not the same thing.

There were also the many aliases’ Roy might choose for the next upcoming race to make sure we could not find him:

“OK, Dag Xarph is also signed up.  Wait, or is it Lowe N. Durrance?  Who am I this time?”

And of course, he often had a political barb or conspiracy theory on COVID:

“Bill, Dr. Sarah Cody is gunning for you; among the restrictions in the new health orders is a prohibition on running the Old Barn Loop in Los Altos Hills.  I plan to be there; we’ll be careful.”

  • Brevity.
  • To say Roy was brief and to the point would be an understatement. He was truly a “just the facts mam” kind of guy. Here’s a typical race report on the historic Dipsea Race to the 7-by-7 club.  Mind you, most of us only dream of running this race, which is open only to an elite few.  I could have written a book on that day, but Roy boiled it down to the important details.

    “Unfortunately, in Sunday’s Dipsea Race, Dino rolled his left foot at mile 5 and broke a bone.  I got the impression that it was a metatarsal.  No surgery but he’ll be in an immobilizing boot for at least 6 weeks.”

    Sometimes you didn’t even have to read his email.  The subject line told it all:

    Sat am: 14 miles flat, fast, boring”

    Unlike me, Roy was not going to offer an excuse if he could not run:

    “Thanks Bill; next time,”

    Roy showing off his recycled running magazines at the annual 7-by-7 gift exchange
    • Curriculum vitae.

    Roy was the last person to talk about or document his running accomplishments.  We likely will never know all he did on the racing circuit due to his many aliases’. Here’s how I found out he was running Dipsea one year:

    “Can’t do it; thanks Bill.  I’ll be up in Marin, running from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach with 1400 of my closest friends.”

    Roy might be the only human being on planet earth to have run from San Francisco to Oakland inside the BART tunnel. He did let out a few snippets about the authorities who were waiting for him as he came out of the tunnel. He outran them, but I never was sure about his mention of the bullets flying by as he turned the corner.

    Roy’s “Hash Run” included running through a gym while people were trying to work out! What I would give to have him lead me on that run again now …
    • Writing skill.

    Roy was a wonderfully talented writer. His “April Fools” story from the New York Times about me winning the Mavericks Big Wave contest (62-year old surfer wins Mavericks Surf Contest) is of course my personal favorite. God bless him, it felt as if I had really done it! I even received a few inquiries about the authenticity, despite him whipping it up a bit at the end: 

    “As the wave curled and, despite its monstrous size, became tubular, the crowd feared that all was lost as Mulkey disappeared behind the leading edge [of a 50′ wave…]. But a cheer erupted ten seconds later as they caught sight of him emerging from the collapsing tube in fine form, hanging ten and giving a “hang loose” hand signal. As the wave ran out into turbulent white foam, he offered up a headstand on the board. “

    • Knowledge of the outdoors.

    This one goes without saying. Roy was the ultimate outdoorsman. When he heard I was planning a bike packing trip he immediately brought me an engineering diagram of how to hang a food sack [Roy would correct me, “its Ursack Mike”] from a tree (for the bears) and offered to schedule time at his house to demonstrate… Upon reviewing my bike “packing list”, Roy did not hesitate to cut me down to size:

    “Delete (to save weight):  Camp seat, bear spray, ground sheets, some of the bike tools, maybe the second spare bike tube, towel (just have a wash cloth), extra clothes (but not the extra socks), etc.“

    Roy and I exchanged many stories about his backcountry ski adventures. Photo by Stephane Mouradian.
    • Deep wisdom of running injuries.

    A lotta shit is happening with the 7-by-7 runners these days, and Roy was always quick to offer his expert medical advice:

    “Brian, if I were an M.D. I would refrain from engaging in armchair diagnosis of your injury.  I would want to do a physical examination, to rule out bursitis, sciatica, etc. But I’m not an M.D, so the sky’s the limit! …”

    And God forbid if you were not very precise in your description of the injury:

    “Doug, the answer is stretching.  What was the question?…”

    • Attention to detail.

    Roy was always uber prepared. His recent 7-by-7 backpacking trip with Bill Gough and the gang underscored this in many ways. Bill lost the soles to his boots on the very first hike (not kidding!). Roy simply pulled out a backup pair of boots from his Subaru that were the exact size Bill needed. They covered Bill for the entire backpacking trip. You are killing me Roy!

    This was not one of Roy’s jokes …
    • Kindness.

    Roy was a kind and gentle soul with a big heart. When a 7-by-7 member had her first baby Roy thought ahead to buy a baby jogger and organize a day at the track to give it to her. And of course, we all took credit.

    Roy’s passing of the baton (and baby stroller) at a 7-by-7 workout

    Thanks Roy. We will carry your baton forward proudly. You have made us all better people.

    Upon hearing the news of the sudden and unexpected death of our 3-year-old Labrador Retriever earlier this year, Roy acknowledged,

    “That’s not fair.”

    Nothing more needs to be said.

    7-by-7 Photo Gallery

    Remembering Roy Lambertson

    See You In Heaven Redwood

    Redwood getting his leash fitted for the tandem board

    If there were a bright spot in this pandemic, it was my relationship with our “fox-red” Labrador retriever, Redwood. “Red” (as we called him) was pretty much the center of attention every day as we took him on walks, watched him eat and sleep (and snore!), stroked his beautiful fur, and loved upon his amazing ability to live in the present. At three and a half years of age, he had enough puppy-energy to give us all a run for our money each day as we waded through the depths of isolation at home. Redwood was my saving grace!

    Last Monday, Redwood had his usual routine with dad in the morning taking a walk before breakfast, hunting down a sock or two in our bedroom, enjoying an afternoon snooze in the sun, and had his evening walk with mom followed by dinner. He then proceeded to curl up in our bathroom for another nap and never woke up. What a shock to all of us to lose our dear pup!

    Will we see Redwood in Heaven?

    As we attempt to move on with a gaping hole in our hearts, I am constantly reminded of the selfless love that Redwood showed us in his very short life. God’s qualities were so evident in who Redwood was every day, that I have a hard time believing I will not see him in heaven.

    There is much the Bible says about how important animals are to God’s eternal Kingdom. I believe that once the curse of sin and suffering is removed from this Earth (Revelation 21:4), animals will be there to enjoy it with us (Isaiah 11:6-9).

    When God created man and placed him in the garden of Eden (Genesis 2:7-8), He had already created lots of animals to be with him (Genesis 1:20-25). When God put an end to all people on Earth with the flood (except for Noah and his family), He saved a lot more animals on the ark than people (Genesis 6:17-21). Jesus was born in a manger surrounded by animals (Luke 2:12-16), and when He returns to establish life on the renewed Earth (Eden restored) in Revelation 22, surely animals will be a part of it. Redwood’s life has reminded me how important our animals will be to that paradise Jesus spoke to just before His death on the cross (Luke 23:39-43).

    Here’s a short (3:45) video in celebration of the wonderful life that Redwood lived.

    Today

    “Lord, I look to you today and I see you are providing for me today. Tomorrow will bring enough problems of its own. Today I trust in you…”
    – Ben Kelly
    (April 30, 2020)

    A favorite pastor of ours during this time of “virtual” services is René Schlaepfer of Twin Lakes Church in Aptos, California. Our family has followed René since the days of family camps at Mount Hermon in the late ’90s, and we just love his heart for God.

    René published a daily devotional video this week about the importance of living for today, to help us maintain calm in the midst of the chaos we see all around us. In it, he reveals a passage from the prayer journal of Ben Kelly, the surfer killed by a shark last May, who was featured in my “Kicking Out” blog on October 19th.

    God bless you Ben Kelly for helping to remind us of the importance of today!

    Ben Kelly’s prayer journal (just nine days before he met his savior)

    4-minute devotional video:

    Work-life balance in Silicon Valley (podcast)

    This wedotalk podcast by good friend and running partner David Jaques provides an overview of my journey of surfing for balance in Silicon Valley.

    Enjoy!

    David Jaques
    Mike Mulkey
    https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAF2F6B4mfuuFw8blXXWPii_1MhWxrw0X

    Kicking Out

    “I don’t know what the future holds — but I do know who holds the future.“
    ― John Wooden (quoting his father)

    Today, kicking out is somewhat of a lost art in surfing.
    It’s not often I see a surfer cleanly exit the wave they are riding while going over the backside to get a glimpse of any waves coming; positioning for a quick paddle back out. A good kick out leaves you in control of your destiny, but it is not a simple maneuver.

    Kicking out at Playa Linda, Costa Rica (2019)

    Prior to the advent of the surf leash and subsequent shortboard revolution in the late 1960s (see: Surfing Without A Leash), knowing how to kick out was a fundamental requirement for serious surfing. One had to master it to get back out into the lineup after a ride without losing your board. Diving off your board into the white water (something I see all too often today) was absolutely not an option in those days.

    ‘Senior Boys’ getting briefed before a heat in the 1964 San Onofre Surfing Club contest

    While competing in the San Onofre Surfing Contest in the 1960s I learned the judges rewarded a surfer who could properly execute a clean and controlled kick out. This indicated good judgment to ride the wave to its proper ending while demonstrating control of your board and vision for your next ride. In those days, that was styling and the judges liked it.

    Today professional surfers competing in the World Surf League are awarded points for a kick out based upon the degree of difficulty as well as how innovative and progressive it is. The following are some fun (insane!) shots from the 2015 Billabong Pro Tahiti (52-second video).

    2015 Billabong Pro Tahiti — Air is IN!

    Kicking out too early

    Sometimes I kick out of a wave too early, anticipating a better wave behind. It is a gamble as I ride over the crest of the wave scanning the horizon for a bigger set coming. I realize that I should have enjoyed the wave I was on, and feel a sense of a wasted opportunity to think something better was coming.

    On May 9th of this year a 26-year-old Santa Cruz surfer kicked out too early in life. Ben Kelly was fatally attacked by a shark while surfing at Sand Dollar, just south of Manresa State Beach. I was at work when I got word that a surfer had died from a shark attack at Sand Dollar. Since my son Matthew and I surf there (he had been there the day before), I immediately called his cell phone. It went to voicemail. I then called his work and after what felt like an eternity on hold, he picked up the phone and greeted me.
    So grateful.

    Thinking it was my son, even if just for a minute, gave me insight into the unimaginable pain of Ben’s family and friends.

    Ben Kelly

    I was touched by Ben’s story as more came out about his life. Ben was a seasoned surfer and board shaper who started his own surfboard company in Santa Cruz (Ben Kelly Surfboards). He graduated Summa Cum Laude from Vanguard University in Southern California where he was awarded the McNaughton Award, its highest honor for business and management students. He had recently celebrated his third wedding anniversary with his wife Katie, whom he met at Vanguard. Together they had founded a social media marketing company (Authentic Approach, Inc).

    Ben was active in the Capitola Village Business Improvement Association, Twin Lakes Church in Aptos, Calvary Chapel in Capitola, and even selling surfboards at one point to support mission’s work in Africa. Ben was stoked about the life God had given him.

    Ben and Katie Kelly

    On May 21st a memorial service and paddle out was held in San Clemente to honor Ben on his 27th birthday (amazingly, my daughter Marisa was celebrating her 27th birthday that same day). The Santa Cruz County Board of Supervisors declared that May 21 would be “Ben Kelly Day”. The proclamation stated:

    “Ben practiced his belief that surfing was so much more than just catching waves — it was about the people he met and the continuous grand adventures that made it fun while blessing others along the way.”

    Walking the Talk

    Ben’s love of Jesus was front and center. He did not just talk about his faith; he exemplified it by his character. In the words of a close friend, “Ben lived the way Christ wanted us to live”. His opening line About himself in LinkedIn boldly calls out his love for his Savior:

    “Hello my name is Ben Kelly. Some of my life passions include: a love for my Savior Jesus Christ …”

    Ben was not hiding who he believed was going to save him on his day of reckoning. Here’s one tribute from the Ben Kelly Memorial Fund website (fundraiser for his wife Katie):

    “The most memorable thing about Ben was his unashamed, unrelenting passion for his faith and his relationship with Jesus. I don’t say this to somehow selfishly reassure myself or others that he’s passed on to Heaven. I don’t have to wonder whether he knew Jesus, or whether his faith was secure. It was. Everybody knew it. He truly lived his faith out. In nearly every conversation I ever had with him, he tied God and the redeeming love of Jesus into it.” 

    ― Zachary Shull

    My son Matthew at Sand Dollar reading the inscriptions on a driftwood memorial to Ben

    In the book of Matthew, Jesus spoke about the importance of doing God’s will to reveal His love and presence in the world:

    “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter.”
    ― Matthew 7:21

    Jesus called us to act on the words of the Bible, to embrace them as our own so they are central to our day-to-day living. He said true wisdom is about actions of love, mercy and peace (James 3:17-18). It is not enough to say “Lord, Lord”. Ben Kelly has both inspired and challenged me in this respect. I find myself asking if this is how I am living out my faith. If my eternal day of reckoning came today, how confident am I?

    Though he never saw it coming, Ben Kelly kicked out of this life with full control over his destiny. His future was secure. I believe Ben is now surfing in heaven. Jesus says that He is preparing a place for each one of us in heaven (John 14:2), and that great rewards are waiting for us there (Matthew 5:12). Surely the God who created the heavens and the earth (Genesis 1:1) could arrange for a little surfing. What awaits us in heaven is far greater than we can let our imaginations explore (1Corinthians 2:9).

    Ben loved the ocean and surfing. He had that surfer’s “stoke” about him. Some called it his good vibes. But those close to him knew it was fed by his faith. Ben hoped in a God who created the heavens and the earth. He wanted to live his life honoring God, knowing his rewards would be in heaven.

    I praise God for the example Ben Kelly set for us.

    “Well done, good and faithful servant!”
    (Matthew 25:23)

    ** Resources **

    Ben Kelly Memorial Fund website: please consider honoring Ben’s life by contributing to this memorial fund in support of his wife Katie.

    Surfing in Heaven (Part I) – if you are wondering what it would be like, I wrote these two blogs from a vision I had of my entry into eternity. Surely this vision falls far short of the divine joy and beauty that awaits us there, but it felt right to dream about what it might be like.

    Surfing in Heaven (Part II)

    Ben Kelly Santa Cruz Paddle Out (video)

    Swimming with Jerry

    “If you are going through hell, keep going.”
    — Winston Churchill

    Jerry Rodder in his formal attire for his piano recital

    I was at Trader Joe’s when a fellow Mountain View Masters (MVM) swimmer dropped in on my cash register and blurted out,

    “Hi Mike, did you know that Jerry passed away on Father’s Day?”

    This confused me, as I was having trouble figuring out who she was with all the coverings on (I don’t recognize swimmers with their clothes on!). My dad (Kona Jack) had also died on Father’s Day …
    As I began to scan her groceries I shot back,

    “Jerry? Jerry who??”

    By the time all was paid and bagged I realized it was our dear friend Jerry Rodder. There was no funeral or obituary or much of any swimming going on, so word did not really get out. Jerry’s departure hit me hard. He was an amazing man who had a sense of humor about life I am really going to miss. He reminded me a great deal of my dad. They both loved Trader Joe’s.

    Jerry and his wife Jill were part of a 5am swimming group I somehow brushed shoulders with for ten or so years at Eagle Park pool (note, they were waiting at the gate at 4:45am; even on those icy cold dark mornings of winter). Jerry and Jill had been around MVM forever. They even wrote the original bylaws for MVM, when Jerry told me they would jump the fence and swim 10,000 meters before anyone else arrived. The early bird got the worm in their house.

    The early birds outside the gate at Eagle pool (on Jill’s 80th birthday!)

    It was always a big motivation for me to get there for the 5am workout knowing Jerry would already be in the pool. Since Jerry was twenty five years my senior, this got my attention. The swim workout at that hour was not my favorite thing. It was hard to get going… But the 6am shower after with Jerry set the tone for a good day.

    We took long and leisurely showers after the workout, which Jerry joked that we would drain the city of Mountain View of all their hot water. He would still be showering, as we were shaving and getting dressed for work, walking over to me (dripping wet naked) to tell me that he couldn’t remember the last time he shaved; and that he was going to go home and take a nap.
    Thanks Jerry.

    Each day Jerry would bring a joke to the pool to share among us guys. His jokes were not always clean (most were not) and they definitely were off color at times, but they were always funny. Jerry delivered these jokes as if he were on Broadway, casually pausing to drop the punch line with impeccable timing. He would even bring me a printed copy of “the good ones” so I could send them off to my dad in Hawaii (which I often did – and he loved them!). I had very little in common with Jerry other than our love of swimming, but our morning laughs in the shower were something I cherished.

    I never knew much about Jerry’s life until I unexpectedly received an invitation to his home. He had pencil sketched the time and address on a small scrap of paper, handing it to me after our shower. “Come on by” was all he said.

    My wife Marla and I had no idea what to expect when we showed up at Jerry and Jill’s house in Los Altos, which was a story in itself. The interior of the house had no walls separating the rooms. What?! It was one big room that was decorated like a museum. The museum pieces were displayed in groups and were quite varied and unique. There was a Swiss army knife that was as tall as me (in the “knives” section); there were out of the ordinary clocks (in the “clocks” section). One wall was adorned with seventeen U.S. Patents with Jerry’s name on them. He never talked about that.

    A plaque with a newspaper clipping from the San Jose Mercury News (circa 1964) showed Jerry next to the machine he had invented. I asked him what it was, and he chuckled, telling me that it could measure the weight of a speck of dust to within .0000001% accuracy (or something like that). “Oh”, was the only response I could muster. Needless to say, this was a side of Jerry Rodder I did not know beyond his jokes in the shower.

    Jerry in his Orchids greenhouse

    We wandered outside to Jerry’s expansive vegetable and fruit garden and entered a large greenhouse that was adorned with award-winning Orchids – dozens of them that were stunning in their brilliant colors and ornamental shapes. Jerry explained he competed in local Orchid contests where he often won 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place prizes. He had invented a magic “alcohol-based” fertilizer that caused just about anything to grow to record levels. We had been savoring mouth-watering tomatoes and melons that Jerry brought to the swim club for years, and now I knew why. He joked with me that the Environmental Protection Agency would shut him down if they had any idea what he put in it.

    Just as we were getting thirsty for a drink or bite to eat (not a scrap of food or drink was to be found), Jerry told us all to sit down so he could play his piano recital. Huh?

    “Big Mike” entertains the swimming crowd at one of Jerry’s piano recitals

    As he sat down at his magnificent Steinway grand piano and played the first set of notes, I instantly knew we were in for a treat. Jerry played variations of Beethoven, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Mozart and more for 45 minutes straight without reading a note. Marla and I sat in stunned silence as we drank in the wondrous melodies watching his fingers float over the keys. Upon completion, Jill promptly brought out fresh-baked cake along with sweet melons from Jerry’s garden. It was an exquisite unforgettable evening!

    Jerry was a very unique and colorful individual who covered more ground in a lifetime than a Winston Churchill memoir. He was a husband, father, grandfather, scientist, inventor, chemist, horticulturist, swimmer, concert pianist, and comedian; and I barely knew him, first meeting him in his late seventies. I believe Jerry was a genius.

    The last time I saw Jerry was at his house a few months before the pandemic hit after his 90th birthday. He was no longer swimming and had help at home to keep good food on the table since Jill had departed two years earlier. We had a brief conversation about Trader Joe’s and how he loved going there to do his shopping. I bid him farewell, never thinking that was it.

    I miss Jerry.

    I miss his jokes and his ability to make fun of whatever and whoever was in the news. Jerry kept his wit right up to the end. He loved swimming. He is the only person I know who could get me laughing at 5am. He loved his music and most of all he loved his wife Jill. It was hard for him when she left first.

    The world is a little more serious of a place without Jerry Rodder.

    God bless you, my friend!

    Jerry’s Orchids

    I found this short clip on the web about Jerry and Jill:

    Fri Mar 23, 2018, 8:38 am:

    • More sad news, Jill Rodder, wife of Jerry Rodder (Jerry’s Grow) passed away last evening. They were a great couple, Jerry grew them and Jill prepped them for display. Jerry’s magic fertilizer was the best on the market and he grew the finest orchid plants I have ever seen anywhere. Jill shone the leaves and cleaned the husks so that every orchid displayed was a glistening specimen. Jerry still has plants but at a more manageable level now. The Cymbidium hybrid named in Jill’s honor is a beauty and was her joy when it bloomed each Spring. Those of us who know and love Jerry, one of the smartest and most technically accomplished people I have ever known, will surely be there to offer him love and support at this difficult time. Hopefully any orchid wannabes will not seek to exploit Jill’s death for self-aggrandizement at any forthcoming orchid shows………

    ** Resources **

    Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui 

    Bonnie Tsui is an accomplished author, writer, and swimmer who immerses you into a wonderful analysis and tribute to the sport of swimming with a sort of memoir of her life blended in. If you like to swim (or just be in the water) you will drink this up! If you don’t swim, this book very well may get you in the water. It is very well written and Bonnie covers all aspects of the sport, including some fascinating historical insights.

    The Future Is Secure

    “No time is lost waiting on God.”
    ― Amish Proverb

    Article title: “Surfers are anything but up with most San Diego beaches closed”…

    These are gnarly times!
    This reminds me of 1969 when Richard Nixon became the 37th U.S. president and set up his “Western White House” at La Casa Pacifica overlooking one of Southern California’s top surfing spots, Trestles. When Nixon was in town, the entire beach was off-limits to everyone, especially to surfers! (see: Surfer in Chief)

    The Coronavirus Pandemic May Be Causing an Anxiety Pandemic. COVID-19 is taking the wind out of our sails. It is the great equalizer. Regardless of our culture, religion, occupation, fame, or financial standing, COVID-19 has brought our world to a screeching halt. We all are threatened and yet all united in a battle of epic proportions to eliminate this devastating virus. I received an email today from Union Bank “Perspectives” which did not exactly ease the pain we are feeling:

    “Surgeon General Jerome Adams said Sunday that this would be the hardest and saddest week of most Americans’ lives as cases are expected to peak in some of the hardest-hit cities …”

    In 1942 my dad and his best friend enlisted in the U.S. Navy after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Both of them lied about their age (they were 15!), signed each other’s enlistment forms, and headed to the U.S. Naval Training Station in San Diego for basic training to fight for our country (see: Malibu and “The Greatest Generation”).

    We are all signed up for Basic Training in this battle.

    It’s ironic that as I write this during Holy Week we are preparing to celebrate Easter this Sunday (from home), which is the most important event on the Christian calendar. Easter is a celebration of the day Christ rose from the dead. To a Christian, this assurance of our eternal life in heaven is the big deal! Death is not the end of the story. Our future is secure.

    The New World Order

    Children have been banned from the playgrounds!

    In our house, the new world order created by COVID-19 boils our daily routine down to the basic necessities of life: our next meal, decontamination activities of the house, interactions of family members (“did you wash your hands?!”), and walking our dog, Redwood. The neighborhood has come together to support and care for each other. I can stand in the middle of the street and have a conversation with a neighbor (six feet apart) without worrying about cars coming. I even hear the birds singing. It reminds me of Christmas day, every day!

    This whole experience has brought our family closer. We pray, eat, watch church services (on TV), do puzzles, watch movies, and laugh together. It’s allowed us to rediscover family time. Best of all, I suddenly have margin back in my life. If an unexpected need arises, I’ve actually got time to deal with it. Today! What a difference that makes.

    COVID-19 has forced us to slow down.

    Our dog is the big winner. He would like this shelter-in-place to continue forever. This past month Redwood has had enough love and attention to last him a lifetime. It’s a dog dream come true!

    Redwood after his eighth walk for the day …

    Trader Joe’s

    I joined Trader Joe’s almost two years ago to ease my transition out of the high technology world (see: “We don’t do email”). I love Trader Joes and could not say enough about how they do the right things for their employees and customers in the midst of this crisis. I hope other companies will follow their example.

    It’s an intriguing time to be working in a grocery store. The fear and anxiety of our customers has been palpable since this all hit on March 9th when Mountain View had its first death from COVID-19 at El Camino Hospital. Instantly the store transformed from the happiest place in town to ground zero for the Friday night fights. Yes, we did have a couple punches thrown. It’s much better now, but those first couple weeks were nothing short of pandemonium.

    We are feeling a part of the greater cause to conquer COVID-19

    Limiting the number of customers in the store has greatly relaxed the mood, but the store still has a bit of a surreal feel to it. Most customers are wearing hats, glasses, gloves, and masks. A few have dressed like Apollo 11 astronauts. It’s very hard to communicate, so our conversation at the cash register resembles a Darth Vader style of interaction with me nodding like I understand.

    When I reach out to hand customers their receipt, some quickly jump back as if I am sticking a knife at them. That is the craziness of all this. I could be the COVID-19 carrier and passing it on without knowing it. When asked how I am doing I will sometimes reply half kiddingly: “check back on me in 12 days”! We hear Plexiglas barriers will soon arrive at the cash registers, so that will help. But until then, they are right to jump back. This is serious stuff.

    Fear of Death

    The fear of death is of course the primary anxiety with COVID-19. And for good reason, death tends to scare us all. Prior to becoming a Christian I had a phobia I called “permanent lights-out”. For just a few seconds I would contemplate my own death and this thought of complete nothingness and darkness would envelope me. It scared the daylights out of me (pun intended).

    The Beatles John Lennon spoke to this fear quite clearly in his famous song “Imagine” (1971). It is a beautiful song, but pay attention to what Lennon is saying:

     

    “Imagine there’s no Heaven
    It’s easy if you try
    No hell below us
    Above us only sky
    Imagine all the people — living for today”

    Lennon is addressing that fear of death! If we can just “live for today” we won’t have to consider what comes next. I sense that before COVID-19 many of us (Christians included) were living like that. We were living for today, and not thinking about tomorrow.

    Here’s the deal.
    Our future is secure. The Bible is very clear on that.
    Sickness and death are not the end of the story. There really is a place called heaven and it will be better than anything we can possibly imagine here on earth.
    Keep that hope!

    God’s Wisdom

    I co-teach a Bible class of third through fifth grade kids on Tuesday’s (BSF Children’s Program). Recently we showed them a chart that speaks to this hope. We were talking about making decisions in life that guide them toward God’s wisdom. The kids get it. They can see the deep wisdom the Bible offers to guide their life on earth toward heaven. As Jesus said, unless we become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:3).

    The coronavirus is trying to drag us into the abyss of a “lights out” mentality. It wants us to lose hope, telling us that death is on our doorstep. If the coronavirus does not get us, something else eventually will. We can bet on it.

    The Future is Secure

    “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
    ― 2 Corinthians 4:18

    Life is a sacred gift from God. The Bible lays out a crystal clear path to free us from darkness. I am not sure there has ever been a more important time to be reading the best selling book of all time. The world needs Jesus now more than ever.

    “Those who hope in me will not be disappointed.”
    ― Isaiah 49:23

    The historical evidence for Jesus’ life on earth is well documented. Within a few decades of his lifetime, he is mentioned by Jewish and Roman historians, as well as by dozens of Christian writings (The Guardian, April 2017). The dispute is whether Jesus conquered death with his resurrection. I get that. I was on the fence myself for the first half of my life. But I will go head-to-head with anyone about lives that were transformed by Jesus. That’s the deal-breaker for me. Roger Williams is one example of that.

    Prayer unlocked the safe for me when I was in my thirties. My grandmother prayed for my salvation for years. She even sent me letters of prayer. One day I woke up and believed. I showed up on my friend’s doorstep Sunday morning and invited myself to church with them. I was in a suit and tie. He laughed at me!

    Hope is now in the picture for me. COVID-19 has surely scared me and made me worry at times. But it won’t take away my hope! My future is secure in Jesus Christ.

    Let me know if I can pray for you.

    I can’t wait for my opening day in paradise. I plan to be surfing in heaven soon after!

    “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
    ― John 16:33

    Authors Note:

    Just three days before his crucifixion, Jesus spoke these words (John 16:33) to his twelve disciples at The Last Supper. This meal was Jesus’ final teaching before his death on the cross. Even as He was facing his own death, Jesus was intent on preparing His disciples for their task ahead once He is gone.

    The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci (1495 – 1498)

    ** Resources **

    Pray as you go (application)

    Available in English, Spanish, Dutch, French: https://pray-as-you-go.org/

    iPhone version: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/pray-as-you-go/id865934048

     This is a wonderful way to start your day in prayer. Published by the Jesuits in Britain, it is ~15 minutes of scripture (Old and New Testament), music (for prayer), and narration to help you apply the scripture reading to your life. It is a daily habit for me that I look very forward to.

    The Hope Quotient by Ray Johnston

    If you are struggling with hope, this book is guaranteed to get you moving in the right direction. Ray is the founding pastor of Bayside Church in the Sacramento, California area and he strikes this topic with a passion. My wife and I are reading it together and finding his story telling to be both encouraging and boosting our overall level of hope.

    Online church services:

    There are two churches we are enjoying in our home while we are sheltering in:

    Menlo Church: senior pastor John Ortberg
    Saturday/Sunday services (as well as Good Friday and Easter): https://menlo.church/messages

    Twin Lakes Church: Lead Pastor Rene’ Schlaepfer
    Saturday/Sunday services (as well as Good Friday and Easter): https://www.tlc.org/resources/sermons/