I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. Psalm 57:2
In 1966, as a junior at Blair High School in Pasadena, I ran out of this gym one day, jumped into my dad's VW bug parked at that curb, cranked it up, swung the wheel around and without thinking started a quick U-turn. I still remember the look of horror on the face of the driver of a huge car I did not see as it sped by, barely missing me. A fraction of a second earlier, and she would have broad-sided me and I would have died. But God fulfilled his purpose for me that day, and I lived.