March 2009 –  Terrie is on a short trip with some close girl-friends.  I am packing to get ready to leave for Alaska – meetings at Alaska Christian College.  The phone rings – yes, we still had a land line.  I check the caller id (this was a little different than today’s call information.) There was no address book to connect the number to and you weren’t warned if it was a spam call. You simply saw the number the call was coming from. I didn’t recognize the number so I ignored it and went on with my packing.  About 5 minutes later the phone rings again, same number.  I decide to answer it.  Trying to be the polite man my mother raised, I answer the phone, “this is Doug, may I help you?”  For a couple of seconds nothing, then I hear, “this is an emergency call from the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department.  Your area is being evacuated due to a wildfire burning nearby.”  Wait, what?  Evacuation?  Wildfire?  Now what do I do?  We didn’t have a plan.  Honestly we had never thought about it.  I had already packed a suitcase for the Alaska trip so clothes weren’t a problem although what you pack for Alaska in March is different from what you might want to wear in Colorado in the early spring.  My next thought was, grab the computer.  I still had an old desk top model which had a few wires to disconnect.  Nothing like just grabbing a laptop or iPad and throwing it in a bag.  There was the CPU, (for you youngins a CPU contained the mechanical hard drive and guts of the computer) an independent monitor that was about the size and weight of a microwave oven, and disks – for Pete’s sake don’t forget the backup disks!  I then thought about photos.  We had boxes and boxes of photos and video tape, spread throughout different rooms.  Today they are all digitized on your laptop, not 15 years ago. The pile started growing and I was stuffing it all into the back of Terrie’s SUV.  My next thought was her jewelry.  Oh man, where is all of it and what all should I take?  Feeling like a common TV burglar I grabbed a pillow case and started cleaning out her drawers and jewelry box.  My mind was racing.  What else?  What else?  Get the dog – oops we don’t have a dog.  Collectibles?  Terrie throws out anything that doesn’t move for two weeks so we don’t collect anything. Any of Terrie’s clothes?  Well, she replaces everything every few months anyway so why bother?  She will probably be happy if she gets to buy a completely new wardrobe.  By this time the back of the SUV was pretty well stuffed anyway so it was time to get out of there.  So now the question was, “where am I going to take the car?”  I couldn’t risk leaving it at the airport, loaded with all our belongings.  Fortunately, our sons were living in a condominium building in downtown Denver that had secure underground parking.  One of them had an extra parking spot and old Dad had a fob to get into the garage.  All I had to do was figure out how I was going to get to the airport from downtown.  Uber had not been invented yet but there was Yellow Cab so that was the plan.  Terrie was lucky.  She and her friends were somewhere in the Arizona desert having a good time, oblivious to what was going on a thousand miles away in Colorado while I was living out a nightmare.  The nightmare wasn’t just about the approaching fire.  The nightmare was that despite knowing we live in an area that could be impacted by a forest fire we had failed to prepare.  I boarded that flight to Anchorage not knowing if we would come home to a pile of ashes or what the situation would be.  Thankfully, when I got home four days later the house was still standing – the fire never even got close to us.  The good Lord had protected us and our neighbors despite my failure to prepare.

Fast forward 15 years.  It’s 1:00 AM on a Wednesday.  We were fast asleep and the doorbell rings – our doorbell is really loud so it woke me up immediately.  More annoyed than anything else I pulled up the front door camera on my phone (didn’t have that in 2009) and didn’t see anyone on the front porch so I quickly went back to sleep.  Sometime later, I’m not sure how long it was, the doorbell rings again.  At this point I am convinced it is kids pranking us and I am mad they have woke me up again (don’t confuse it with today’s connotation of “woke.). I peek out the bedroom door into the foyer and see a flash light shining through the sidelight next to the door.  My first thought is, “someone is going to rob us.”  They have been ringing the doorbell to make sure no one is home.  I keep a 9mm pistol nearby and was tempted to grab it when common sense got the best of me and I decided to go to the door. Rounding the corner into the foyer I could see the Deputy’s badge through the window.  I was groggy from sleep and not very coherent when I opened the door.  The first thing I noticed was the acrid smell of wood smoke.  Then I heard the Deputy say, “Jefferson County Sheriff.  Your area is being evacuated.   We want you out in 15 minutes! 15 minutes? I might not have reacted so quickly had I not smelled that smoke. That was a real wakeup call – the fire must be close.

We were experiencing an unusually dry summer which followed a pretty damp spring. The fire danger had been relatively low until the previous couple of weeks when the heat and dry conditions dramatically elevated the risk of fire. We have quite a bit of meadow surrounding our home and the hot dry conditions had turned the mowed portion of the tall grass into a crispy, golden carpet. The landscaped portion of the yard, closest to the house, was approaching the same appearance as the meadow. It had been hot enough that no amount of watering was going to keep the turf grass green. Still, I never really gave it much thought. Besides, forest fires are something that happen further up in the mountains, not in our comfy suburban area.

I quickly woke up Terrie, told her to get out of bed and put on some clothes – we were being evacuated. We looked at each other with some fear and some confusion and she said “what are we going to do?” I told her to grab her phone and iPad, her car keys and to get the heck out of there. With the smell of that smoke still fresh there was no way I was going to let her try to start putting together some things to take with her. I wanted her out of there and safe. I ran into my study, grabbed my laptop and computer bag and was on the way to the garage without thinking about much else. When I opened the garage door I could see the flames on the ridge above us. This was no drill, this was the real thing. I paused just long enough to see a tree “crown” – the fire jumping from an adjacent tree and exploding through the top of the next victim. Terrie was in her car, following me out of the driveway. There were several Sheriff’s Department vehicles positioned throughout the neighborhood as they continued their door-to-door evacuation efforts. On the way out I stopped near one of them and asked if there was an evacuation center set up – he told me where to go and we were on our way down the hill and out of the canyon.

We arrived at the evacuation center around 2:00 AM and were one of the first to check in. I was amazed at how quickly the center had been activated and was ready to help the residents of the nearly 600 homes that could be impacted by the fire. Obviously, the first responders were much better prepared than we were. All we had was the clothes we had put on, our electronic devices and our cars. No tooth brush, none of our medications, no change of clothes, no place to stay, no, no, no, no plan! It was a very uncomfortable, empty feeling. Terrie had a peace about her that told me she was totally relying on God to lead us through this little challenge to our normally quiet, safe life.

After a little discussion on what to do next we decided to find a hotel room for the rest of the night. Sleep might help clear the cobwebs of confusion resulting from the chaos of the last couple of hours so around 3:00 AM we found a room and tried to settle down and get some rest. From the parking lot of the hotel we had a clear view of the fire and although we were several miles away we could see tree after tree explode like enormous sparklers on the 4th of July. The fire that had been discovered by a Sheriffs Deputy on a normal patrol through the canyon had spread from 10 feet by 10 feet to close to 100 acres and “The Quarry Fire” was growing by the minute. There was no way to sleep – only tossing and turning as thoughts of returning to a charred neighborhood kept bubbling up despite my constant prayers to God for protection.

Not being able to sleep we were up and out of bed early, hungry, needing a tooth brush, a cup of coffee and some news about the fire. The events of the previous few hours seemed surreal, other worldly. We kept reminding each other we were safe and prayed for the safety of our neighbors, the fire fighters and our families.

I’m not going to go through all the details of the ensuing few days – we have all heard the experiences of other fire victims, survivors of tornadoes, people who have experienced all sorts of disasters. So many of those events end in tragedy and enormous loss. We were blessed – the little wind that was present around the fire had turned northwest, blowing the fire further up into the uninhabited part of the canyon and away from the majority of homes. We were evacuated for 5 days while the amazing fire fighters slowly gained control of the fire. When we were allowed to return home we were expecting to have some smoke damage, maybe some ash, who knew what else. There was none of that. There were signs throughout the neighborhood honoring the firefighters and the Sheriff’s Department. Spray painted on sheets of plywood they said things like, “We are here because you were here,” “Thank you Firefighters.” We have all seen those things on TV before but to experience it first-hand brings a crushing reality to the devastation many others have experienced.

So what are the lessons from all of this? The obvious is I didn’t learn my lesson the first time we were evacuated. Being 15 years older and supposedly wiser, this old dog had not learned a new trick. Despite that first warning I was not prepared. I had been complacent and because of it I had failed at my God assigned duty to provide for my wife. Yes, looking back on it now, we experienced a little inconvenience, being forced out of the comfort and protection of our home for five days. Big deal! But the realization that I had failed Terrie hurt. Lesson number 2 – I pray we never forget the lesson we learned from this ordeal about friendship. The numbers of people who reached out to us when they learned about the fire was amazing. Close friends, acquaintances living near-by, people we have known only a short time, friends from our past that we haven’t heard from in years. Virtually all of them came with offers for housing, concern for our wellbeing and assistance of all sorts. It was humbling, comforting, overwhelming and emotional. There is truly no way to thank them and explain to them what their expressions of support and love meant to us. The final lesson? We are OK. Not just me and Terrie. When I say “we”, I mean all of us. When we experience challenges like what we just went through there is a clear intersection of faith and human nature. It is as if the Holy Spirit works overtime to activate our spirit of concern for our fellow humans. Gone are our differences and in their place is heartfelt kindness that can only be an extension of the love our God has for all of us.

So yes, in the end, this old dog has learned a new trick! It’s not really a new trick but a lesson learned. A lesson I pray will stay with me, shape decisions I make and impact my relationships and love for my friends and others for the rest of my life.

By now, if you have followed this blog at all, you know I share my life experiences in an attempt to help other people avoid some of the mistakes I made along the way. I don’t do this because I think I know more than anyone else. Nor do I use this space for personal gain or because I have a specific agenda. I will admit there was a little ego involved when I first started it but it did not take long for God to show me that no matter how smart I thought (operative word) I was and how important my words were going to be to others, I still have so much to learn and this blog is helping me realize that and seek out answers to questions I have always had.

This entry is an acknowledgment of both my need to continue listening and learning and how deception can result in life-long misconceptions. To give you the full picture of where this is going I need to take you back to when I was four or five years old – hey, I’m almost 70 and some of the memories from that time of my life are a little cloudy. Not the one I am going to share with you. The events of a Sunday morning, some 65 years ago, are still impacting my life today. I recall, very clearly, the morning we pulled up in front of Redeemer Lutheran Church in Albuquerque. Before we could get out of my Dad’s 1957 blue and white Plymouth Belvedere he told us to sit tight until he came back. “We” included me, my Mom and my sister. I had no idea why we weren’t going in for the service but looking back on it now I believe my Mom new exactly why. About 5 minutes after my Dad entered the church he returned to car, calmly got it in, put the key in the ignition and fired up his blue pride and joy with the enormous Plymouth fins. My sister started crying because she wanted to go see her friends in Sunday school. Still not knowing what was going on, I chose to stay silent as the car began to move toward the parking lot exit. It was dead quiet in the car – the only noise was the sound of the V-8 pushing the sedan down the road. A couple blocks out or the parking lot my Mom finally broke the silence when she asked my Dad what happened. All I heard him say was, “we have to find a new church.” It took me a while and some pretty concentrated eavesdropping but I finally had an idea what happened. My father was a Mason and when the Elders at Redeemer Lutheran Church found out, they asked him to not come back to “their” church. That’s right, we had been kicked out of their church. To a child my age this was very, very confusing. I was five years old so there wasn’t a lot about church that I really understood at the time. I knew we enjoyed Christmas and Easter because of church. I knew I enjoyed Sunday school because we got to color pictures and learn a few songs. I knew going to church was important to my Dad and Mom because that’s what we did virtually every Sunday, followed by lunch at one of our grandparents homes. It is important to note that my Dad was only 31 years old when all this happened. To his credit he was determined to make sure his family attended church (keep this in mind, it’s an important insight as this story unfolds) so after talking to friends, relatives and doing a lot of study we found a new church. The new church was also a Lutheran church but belonged to a different synod and wasn’t near as hard line as the one we were asked to leave.

As time went on, despite the Redeemer Lutheran experience, the Masonic order became a very large part of our family life. My Dad continued to participate in his “Blue” lodge and started moving through the process of passing the “32nd” degree and joining the “Scottish Rite.” His goal was to become a Shriner – the pinnacle of Masonry. My mother participated in “Daughters of the Nile”, my sister joined “Jobs Daughters” and I got involved in the Order of DeMolay. They were all “fraternal” organizations associated in one way or another with Free Masonry. I never really questioned if what we were doing was right. We continued to attend church, my sister and I went through Lutheran confirmation. There was never any talk about Jesus being anything but the son of God sent to redeem us from our sins. When I questioned my Dad about Masonry and the role God played in it all he would say is that belief in God is central to the teachings of Masonry. In fact, both the Masons and DeMolay had a strict rule that a meeting could not be opened unless the Bible was open on the altar of the meeting room. When I joined DeMolay the first thing I as given was a Holy Bible. I think I was somewhere around 14 years old and like most guys that age I didn’t spend a lot of time in The Bible so although I still have it, I probably never opened The DeMolay version more than once or twice. I had a couple of Bibles of different translations and since the DeMolay version is a King James translation I decided all those thees, tho’s and thine’s did not work for me. Today I opened that Bible and was shocked at what I found – or maybe more importantly, what I didn’t find. We will get to that a little later.

Let me see if I can pull all this together and explain why I was compelled to write this post today. The Pastor of our church, Jim Burgen, started a new series last week entitled, “Hidden in Plain Sight.” I wish I could share some of the scriptural references Jim used today but it would be much better if you would simply go to YouTube, do a search under Flatirons Church, find “Hidden in Plain Sight” week 2 and listen to the message. Here is the link for anyone who is YouTube challenged like me. (https://www.youtube.com/live/3RshiwROEvM?si=x_a9g0kjvWQymNjt) It will be well worth your time. For me the entire message was impactful but Jim told a couple of stories related to the subject, one of which shook my core. The story Jim related was about Free Masonry and their denial of the deity of Jesus. He shares some deep detail about their beliefs and some of their rituals including one particularly disturbing election day practice. Again – watch the video on YouTube (link above)- it’s a real wakeup call. The full on blast to me is the message about Jesus. For virtually my entire conscious life I believed the Masonic order was an organization that relied on a foundational belief in the trinity as it is defined in The Holy Bible. Like so many others, during the years my ideology was being formed I was not mature enough to ask the questions that needed to be asked. I am quite sure, like my father, I accepted what I was told and didn’t question it. Belonging to the Masons was ok because Masons were Christians, over and out. Back to the DeMolay Bible. I pulled it off the shelf today and opened it up. The text of the scriptures appears to be in tact but looking a little deeper I discovered something that bothers me. The first 16 pages deal with everything from the founding of DeMolay to the purposes of the fraternal organization and some of the ceremonies and rituals not designated as secret. There is a section that deals with “The Bible and DeMolay.” Another section talks about the need to be “religious.” Yet another section speaks about charity and ties it to scripture through quoting 1 Timothy 1:5. However, there is one glaring omission. Even with the scriptural references that are intertwined throughout the first 16 pages, there is not one single mention or acknowledgment of Jesus or the Holy Spirit. Coincidence? I highly doubt it after what I learned today.

So, what is the lesson in all of this? First, you must understand in my heart of hearts I know my father would never have intentionally deceived me about anything and especially about his faith in Jesus. What I do believe is he himself had been deceived and unfortunately never had anyone who came alongside him to encourage him to question the path he was going down. Masonry was a family thing. His father was a Mason so he became a Mason. It was something you didn’t question, it was something you did. He wasn’t spiritually mature enough to know he needed to turn away from the deception and to embrace the truth of the Gospel. My guess is he never realized, in his entire 82 years of life, how he had been deceived. I can assure you that when I was 31 years old there is no way I was mature enough to see through the myriad of ways I was being deceived and separated from Jesus. There is no question, there is a deceiver out there who wants to ruin your life, separate you from the love of Christ and make you believe your life is all about you and nothing else.

It is scary and very humbling to realize that I lived under a false assumption for 65 years. I could sit around and beat myself up about it but I know God does not hate me because of it. I firmly believe it was God himself who protected me from falling into the same trap. In 1978, not too long after Terrie and I married, my Dad approached me and said, “it’s time for you to join the Masons.” I didn’t question it, it was an expectation. I filled out the application and expected the journey through the Masonic degrees would begin soon. A few weeks went by and finally my Dad called me one day and explained that my application had been turned down due to my job. At the time I was working for The Gallo Winery and according to the rules of the lodge no one involved in the liquor business could join. Talk about a hypocritical contradiction – I had never been to an event with my Dad’s Masonic friends where liquor wasn’t part of the get together. The Shriner’s were especially known for their parties that included alcohol. Although my father waged a successful campaign to change the rule, I never again thought about becoming a Mason. Today, I am convinced God steered me away.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines deception as: the act of causing someone to accept as true or valid what is false or invalid : the act of deceiving. Use my example as motivation to look at everything you do and believe. Stop denying the existence of the great deceiver and embrace the truth and freedom of The Gospel.

It would be easy for me to have a pity party over my lack of discernment. 65 years living under a false assumption. 65 years of allowing myself to be deceived. Feeling defeated would be an understandable reaction. That would be the difficult and depressing way to handle this news. But I have a much better way. A way that encourages me. A way that is available to every single person. A way that will always defeat the efforts of the great deceiver. In John 8:31 Jesus said, “if you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” How much easier could it be?

Soon I will celebrate my 70th birthday. It would be easy to allow myself to be deceived into believing I have learned all I am ever going to learn. Obviously not!