Carried by a community

by Cindy Taylor

The first day we came to Good Samaritan, Mary Anne was celebrating her birthday. A Marine was being deployed, and Fr. Chris and the congregation gave him a special blessing. Those and holding hands for the Lord's Prayer really impressed me.

My husband John didn't grow up in a church, but he feels so at peace when we leave the service. He wishes there were an early weekday service so he could go before work. When I think about the effect Good Sam has had on our lives, I think of my husband and his walk with Christ. When I see him pray, it means a lot to me.

We had gone to a different church many years before, but when I had a miscarriage there was no reaction from anyone in the church.

Cindy's favorite picture with her granddad

December 13 2009. My granddad had died far away the day before. Though he wasn't ready to go, they couldn't keep him alive. I came to church that Sunday just sobbing, and people would come up to support me. Rebecca took me into the chapel to pray for me. It got very warm; the sun came out enough that it was like a spotlight on my face and Rebecca had just the right words to say. She carried me through that horrid pain. 

Are you carried by your community of faith? Of friends? If not, why not?

Experiencing Jesus' Passion...

by Thom Kassebaum

At the age of eleven, I was diagnosed with a kidney condition which made it necessary for me to take large doses of medications for several years. When I was in high school, one of those medications had to be administered intravenously, usually in the back of the hand.  

Between frequent sessions and the occasional slip of the needle, the backs of both hands became scarred. I attended Happening 16 where I heard "I AM" in a still small voice in my head. 

Six months later, I went to a Discovery Weekend [a family retreat] at Good Sam, where the teenagers had a small group of their own. We listened to a recorded description of Jesus' passion. 

We heard in vivid detail of what a cat-o'-nine-tails was, how many lashes it took for that whip to kill someone, what kind of thorns were smashed on Jesus' head, what the "hand" of the ancient world referred to... on and on. 

I started to daydream, wondering what it felt like for a piece of steel to go through my hand from my palm, using my thumb to mimic the nail. I closed my eyes to fully experience it and my fingers gently brushed the bandage from where the intravenous needle had gone in. I turned my hand over and pressed hard. No, I didn't know what it felt like for the nail to go in from the palm, but I sure knew what it felt like for a small-gauge needle to go from the back forward, what kind of damage was inflicted in the name of "helping".   

"Unless I see the nail marks in his hand, and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand in his side, I will not believe." 

 I put my finger where my nails were, I put my hand in my side; how much more did He die for me! All I remember is seeing His face and mumbling to myself, "My Lord and My God" and, "the doctors were only trying to help."

When God put His arms around me....

by Ruth Lim

One of the moments when I felt God put His arms around me was when Samuel was around 10 years old. He had recently joined the St. Paul's Boys' Choir and was picked by director Martin Green to sing a solo for a presentation at ComiCon.

But he didn't tell me he had been chosen. Parents were invited to come listen the night of the dress rehearsal.

So here's the San Diego Master Chorale, with a hugely important guest conductor, and the conductor turns to Martin and says, "Boy soloist." Martin looks at Sam, who gets up on stage and promptly drops his music.

My heart stopped.

A dad sitting next to me puts his arm around me and says, "Breathe, Mom." I get up and walk to the back of the hall in order to start breathing again, and sit down in the darkness to watch.

Sam calmly picks up his music and starts to sing. It was flawless—this little voice soaring beautifully with the whole Master Chorale.

That's when I felt the Lord put His arm around me, saying, "There. You need not have worried. I am with him."

After all Sam had been through, I'd worried about him—is he going to be OK? can he do this? All the things moms worry about, plus. And here I was, in a darkened theater, listening.

"You need not have worried. I am with him."

(This is reprinted from "40 Days of Devotions in Lent", 2011.) 


Have you ever felt God's arms around you? What was it like?

Trying to Find a Welcoming Church Home

by Ann Carlton

When I moved here from Dallas and found Good Samaritan on Google, I did not feel at home immediately. 

I was accustomed to an altar rail and kneelers, having come from a "high church" parish where things are more formal.  

It was also strange not to have a coffee hour, the Women's Group was disbanding, and I didn't feel the sense of warmth that I expected. I even went to a Newcomers' Breakfast but didn't feel embraced.  

After attending Good Sam for several months, I started attending St. James, La Jolla, because it was more traditional, and stayed for over a year.  But St. James didn't reach out either, so I returned to Good Samaritan, determined to make it my church home.  

I have been more than pleased with that decision.

Now I feel a part of the Good Sam community. I have embraced this as my church home and opportunities have been and continue to be present where I feel invited to use some of my spiritual gifts.  I believe in discovering your spiritual gifts.  I've known all my life that hospitality is "me" and that's where I want to be.  

Building community and being part of the Good Samaritan family is so rewarding.


(This is reprinted from "40 Days of Devotions in Lent", 2011.) 

Finding Peace

by Tracy Jewell

I grew up at Good Sam, left to go to college, and came back to marry Brian at Good Samaritan in 1994.  We moved to Northern California for our jobs and came back to San Diego—and Good Samaritan—after we had Emily.  We've stayed because we love the people in the church, Chris Chase, and being in a church with a traditional liturgy. 

Good Samaritan reflects its namesake in that it is so welcoming to each individual.  It is an accepting, diverse church. Each of us brings a different perspective, a different take on things; our own life experience.  Yet we have a common bond, common ground. This helps us be even more accepting and compassionate. We can all worship together and be willing to help anyone where they are.  

I feel closest to Christ during our music, especially the praise music, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow", and the Lord's Prayer.  When I'm singing, I get a chill; I feel it's the Holy Spirit, and I think "Gosh, You're there!"  I look at the stained glass windows, especially the shell, and can feel Christ within me. 


Being in church gives me peace.  Things in life can be frustrating and hectic, and then I go to the service and can let everything go. I get the most calming feeling of peace. Peace so I can go out and be—or at least try to be—more Christ-like.

(This is reprinted from "40 Days of Devotions in Lent", 2011.)