Fire on the USS Joseph Hewes

The ship was taking rolls and I had to watch my balance. I held onto the counter. The "battle station" alarm was a routine in our ship board life. When we heard, "Battle stations, battle stations, all hands man your battle stations," each sailor headed to his assigned area. It was a drill in speed. It didn't matter what you were doing, you dropped everything, even Z's, and headed to your battle station. 

I heard the alarm and as usual I ran to my area, securing doors behind me. My place was the galley, which was good because if I got hungry I could eat. Well not today. 

After several minutes men dressed in breathing masks rushed into our area. A person lifted his mask to tell us to follow them. His tone was urgent. My heart began to pound. We followed the group of men to a more secure position. Sailors were scrambling in every direction. One of the strongest rules we were taught was just violated. We had to stay in our own battle station. Something was horribly wrong. 

A sailor stopped long enough to say one dreadful word: "FIRE"

My entire life flashed in front of me. Would I see my family again? Would I be burned alive? I remembered my training in fire fighting. One of the worst things that can happen to a ship at sea was fire and we had a shipboard fire. We were told we were moved because the fire originated below the galley.

It seemed like time stood still. I can remember it right now as it just occurred. My life all of a sudden took on a new significance.

I think of Galations 2:20 when I look back on that day and those moments. When I was faced with death I had a different outlook upon life. It was like taking a picture and putting a black background behind it. The picture stood out. My life stood out that day. "I have been put to death with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." That verse was made real for me in the possibility of death. What if I lived as though I were dead? My life would be highlighted. I would live differently.

Smell, Taste, Hearing, Touch & Sight

3.
Smell - The sweet smell made her mouth water, and her stomach growled in anticipation.
Taste - Children like fruit juice because of the sweet taste.
Hearing - The voice he dreaded hearing finally spoke.
Touch - I tried to touch a hand rail next to me but I couldn't get up.
Sight - "I thought bees were attracted by sight and smell," I said.

4. When I apply this lesson my readers can experience my writing. It can help them identify with what I'm trying to convey. And most important they will long remember what I'm writing.

Christmas Vacation

The smell of chlorine greets us as we open the door to the pool. Kids scatter, the older to the 210 foot raft water slide, the younger to the swallow area. Water rushes into a 160 gallon dumping bucket. Kids scream and scramble when it releases its cargo. Kids laughing and splashing can be heard as the bucket uprights itself and refills. I step into the hot tub and sit next to the whirlpool jet. I relax and pick up my bottle of water. I allow the cool water to linger in my mouth.

Old Meridian Bridge

The sun appeared to be crashing into the Missouri River as I began my walk across the Old Meridian Bridge. Zoom! I looked and saw an approaching speed boat. The smell of fresh rain lingered in the air. I was refreshed by taking a drink of my lemon water. The railing was still moist from the shower as I took a hold of it while ascending the bridge.

Flower Garden

Song of Solomon 4:16

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden that its fragrance may spread abroad.

I cherish my childhood memories of flower gardens. Mom’s friends displayed back yard works of love. Fresh spring bursted in the air as gently breeze influenced the plants. Time seemed to stand still as color filled our senses like a crayon on a page. We drank in life. The bird chirped. The squirrels played. And I write this today with the aroma filling my senses once more.

God looks upon His garden. Who is the garden? -those who belong to Him in Christ Jesus. Song of Solomon gives us a glimpse into the heart of God. He created the plant, the aroma and the wind. I was only an observer.

2 Corinthians 2:14 NIV

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.

The Dream

           The sun greeted them as they sat on the lush green grass. The hill side was full of happy, content people. They talked to each other, smiled at one another and enjoyed the scenery. They were in their own world. Peace and quiet filled the hillside. It was a perfect day, or so it seemed.
            As I watched them I relaxed deeper into my own world. I saw contentment and comradery. I soaked it in. I wanted to become part of the community.
            My attention was moved to a commotion not far from the peaceful hillside. It happened in the valley. It grew into a small disturbance. A fence came into focus, one that I hadn't seen when I sat down on the hillside. It captured my attention; my eyes were locked onto it. I wondered what was on the other side of the fence. I wouldn't have long to wait.
            As I was mesmerized by the scene, a bus came rolling down the valley, crashing through the fence. I was paralyzed. I couldn't or didn't want to change my view. I didn't think of the people on the hillside, who were temporarily unaffected with the busted down fence. I watched and realized I was seeing a prison.
            All of a sudden men in orange jump suits poured out of the bus and overtook the guards. My fixation was strengthened as I watched a massive amount of convicts flooding the hillside through the knocked down fence. I was being entertained and I liked it. A movie was playing in front of me. I was on the front seat and had all the benefits of surround sound. I felt someone yelled, "Action!" and at the right time he would yell, "Cut!"
            When observation turned to participation, reality hit me. No one was going to yell, "Cut!" This was real! I heard screams. I saw the faces of the people. They were my family. They were my friends. They were my community. The sounds combined with the carnage, assaulted my senses. Adrenaline was shooting darts through my bloodstream. I couldn't take it anymore. I was in danger. I ran.
            I entered the next scene - a dark city. I found myself walking down vacant streets. I was lonely and cold. My mind overrode my heart, convincing me of the correctness of my decision to run. With my mind in control I stayed in the darkness. I roamed the dim alleys. I smelled the stench. I was alone.
            My heart won out and I returned to the hillside. The bus was gone. The convicts were gone. I became sick. Anger took front seat on the ride I was on. I saw people lying in pools of blood. Some were barely sitting up, others were lying down. There were open wounds on faces, arms and legs. White bandages covered the people. Groans of the hurting filled the air. The peaceful green hillside was now a river of blood. Upon that slope were those I knew. They looked at me, my undamaged condition. I sat there guilty. I sunk into despair. Darkness covered us, refusing the sun to shine on the once lush hillside.
            I woke up. I instantly knew the message of the dream. Over the years this dream has directed my mind towards my heart. I gained a deep respect for life and the Giver of the dream. In a world that has instant news, I had to enforce compassion into my thought process. God did not want me to sit in my chair with a coke and popcorn in my hand, watching the nightly news like some kind of entertainment.
            That night God elevated life onto my large screen. When I elevate the dream's message to its proper position:  I evoke compassion instead of emotionless observation, and I pray for people instead of just watching news. 
In the last sentence and replace "I" with "you" and you will become involved.