Hula Lessons In Honolulu

Hula Lessons In Honolulu

by Marcia Brown

Transcribed from the original recording; may contain errors.

I’ve written something up on the board. We’re not going to be using it tonight, but we will start using it tomorrow morning. Tonight I’m going to be talking about relinquishing and committing. Dear Lord, we are so grateful for the opportunity of being right here, right now. We thank You for Your love. We thank You for what is happening to us and in us and through us.

We thank You for the things that You whisper to us as we become quiet and open ourselves to You. In Jesus’ name. Amen. To the right place. We sing the song, “Let Go and Let God Have His Wonderful Way.” Let go and let God have His way. Your burdens will lighten, your night turn to day. Let go and let God have His way. It’s a wonderful song.

It isn’t just let go. It’s let go and let God. It isn’t letting go and letting God do what you want and can’t do. It’s letting go and letting God do what God wants and can do. Let go.

And let Him do it. Yes, it’s more than a song. It’s instruction. Relinquishing and committing involves great love, great trust, and great faith. Yes, it is wanting what He wants accomplished in His ways. His wonderful ways. And being happy about it. That’s important, too.

I have flown over a million and a half miles in a passenger seat. And done a lot of thinking about the man in the pilot’s seat. I’ve also thought about the others in the cockpit and in the control towers. All are well-trained and dependable. None are allowed a margin of error.

I’ve thought of people who design and construct planes. The materials they use. The radar equipment. I’ve thought of the laws of aerodynamics. I wish I knew more about them. I know one pilot personally. He flies for United Airlines. He and his family are all CFOers. CFOers at the Koronis, Minnesota camp. The Dave Runyans. Perhaps some of you know them. I’ve known one of the top engineers at Boeing in Seattle. A specialist in strain and stress. He worked on the 737 and the 747. The last I heard, he was working on another plane. He, too, is a man of God.

He’s a long-time CFOer. Knowing what kind of men Ted and Dave are, I suppose, started me thinking about the kind of men involved in the industry. Could it be that it is looking for men of faith? Ted and Dave both are men of faith. I hope the industry is looking for such men. I do know that our first overseas flight was on United Airlines to Honolulu in 1947. It was on a Stratocruiser, a prop plane. It had a lounge on a lower level. And while we were in the lounge, a man came into the lounge, removed some panels at the front end, and began tinkering with some of the concealed equipment.

I began to wonder who he was and why he was doing what he was doing. And I wondered if the crew knew what he was doing. Yes, I confess, I was a bit anxious. He was dressed in ordinary business clothing. Nothing about him identified him with the airlines. When he finished, he replaced the panels, came over to where we were, and introduced himself.

He said that he worked for United Airlines, an inspector. And that was what the crew had been told. And while he was on board, he did inspect the equipment. But his real task was to find out if the crew worked together harmoniously. Or were there any personality problems?

Harmonious crews flying the skies, friendly skies. That was what United wanted. You have to have great faith and trust when you board a plane. I learned that from Roland’s experience in overcoming his fear of flying. By the way, if there’s some of you who don’t know who I’m referring to when I say Roland, he was my husband for 56 years. A CFOer, a preacher.

His main work in his later years was conducting schools of prayer in all kinds of churches of all kinds of denominations. In the United States and overseas. A CFOer, a great fellow. I know. Personally. Yes, he had a phobia. And he needed to overcome his fear of flying. When I boarded that plane in San Francisco, I didn’t think about faith and trust. All I was thinking about was a time we would be having in Hawaii. I was excited. For me, the whole trip was a beautiful surprise gift from God. For Roland, it was a very traumatic experience.

I was in many more camps than he was. Although he was in a lot of camps. Seminaries. He was dean of Pastor’s Prayer Seminars. A wonderful organization funded by Eli Lilly, the pharmaceutical people. And when dates permitted, we worked together as a team.

Yes, back in the 1920s, years before I was in the picture, Roland attended a conference at Winona Lake, Indiana. While there, he and two other young fellows were out riding in a Model T Ford, and they saw a plane fall from the sky.

They turned the Model T off the road, drove as far as they could in the direction of the fallen plane, and ran the rest of the way. They were the first to reach the wrecked plane. He assisted in removing the bodies of a student and his instructor. The experience left him with a long-lasting phobia. In no way could you have persuaded him to get into a plane. For that matter, for many years after we were married, if, as we were driving along, he saw a plane in the sky, he’d say, “I hope it doesn’t come this way.”

The years passed. In 1947, Glenn Clark received a letter from Macalester Park College students of his, now missionaries in Japan, inviting him to hold meetings in Tokyo. Glenn asked Roland to accompany him and do half the speaking. So plans were made. Visas had to be secured. Because it was shortly after the Second World War, applications had to be made through the military. Then plans were made for them to hold four days of meetings en route to Tokyo at the Church of the Crossroads in Honolulu. A couple of weeks later, Glenn Clark phoned with a proposition. If Marcia would drive the two of them to San Francisco, they’d save money on the tickets and he’d pay her fare to Hawaii. He wanted me to go with him that far. I could stay on in Honolulu while they went on to Japan and then pick me up in Honolulu on their return. I thought that was a great idea.

We had meetings in Sacramento and San Francisco before leaving the mainland. I’ll tell you about that flight to Hawaii as Roland frequently told it. And I’m quoting him. And this is him talking, not me. When you have meetings in San Francisco one night and in Honolulu the next noon, you don’t travel by the Lurline. That takes several days. I knew the Lord was behind the plans. He is my Master as well as my Lord. I didn’t think of saying, “But Lord, You know I’m afraid of flying.” The appointments were made. The tickets to Honolulu were purchased. When I boarded the plane I did so with trepidation. Marcia and Glenn were ahead of me. They were talking with great enthusiasm as if they had been flying every day of their lives. Once inside I grabbed Marcia by the elbow. “See here, old lady. You take the window seat.” And she obeyed me. She knew what was going on in my mind. How scared I was. We strapped ourselves in. When the engines revved up I began to vibrate.

I grabbed her hand tightly. I wonder what he thought that might do. After the wheels left the ground and we were over the water I leaned over her and said, “That water looks a long way down there.” She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just gave me a wifely stare. I was there. I was there. And I decided to be good.

We got out over the Pacific. I couldn’t resist the temptation so I looked again. “That water looks awfully wet down there.” She gave me another wifely stare. And again I decided to be good. Women learn to give wifely stares.

When we were 30,000 feet up I took another look. “That water looks awfully cold down there.” This time she spoke. “Roland, what difference would it make if the plane should crash? I mean it. What difference would it make?” And I said, “Huh?”

And a few moments later I added, “Why, it wouldn’t make any difference. I’d still be with the Lord.” And I carried on a conversation with myself. And this was the conversation. Roland, you big nanny, what are you afraid of anyway? You’re not afraid to die. Heaven is wonderful. Being eternally with Jesus is wonderful. I know it’s that old phobia you’ve coddled through the years. Every time anyone says something about flying you’ve had something to say. And then I took that old phobia, held it tightly in both hands, and prayed a two-fold prayer. One pleading for forgiveness for hanging on to that old phobia and the other a cry for help.

And what do you know? It dropped to the floor of the plane and I was free of it. I breathed deeply. How wonderful to be above the clouds with no fears. But what do you know? It was back as big as life in 30 seconds.

And it was as if that little imp that sometimes sits on my shoulder was saying, “It didn’t work, it didn’t work.” And I said, “It did work. And I was free of it. And what works once can work again.” So I grabbed the phobia again with both hands. “Lord, thank You for helping me to drop that fear. Now help me to drop it again.” And it fell to the floor as instantly as it did the first time. And it was back in two minutes. The little imp was saying, “It didn’t work, it won’t work.” And I said, “You beat it.” And I prayed again, “Thank You, Lord, and help me, Lord.” And it was back in five minutes. I did it again. And it was back in ten minutes. I did it again. And it was back in twenty minutes. I kept it up all the way to Honolulu, with the intervals getting longer and longer. When we came down in Honolulu, the fear was gone. While there, United Airlines gave us free tickets to fly down to the Big Island. I boarded that little plane, anticipating a wonderful adventure. And when I would continue, I’ve flown hundreds of thousands of miles since then, in all kinds of planes, in all kinds of weather, with no fears.

God is good. And Jesus is wonderful. They have revealed their goodness in countless ways. Now, this is me. I’ve shared this in just the way he used to talk about it. It shows a technique for getting rid of fear. For relinquishing fear. For committing it to the Lord, saying, “Lord, help me.” And trusting Him as you leave it with Him.

If it is back in two minutes, do it again and again and again, as often as is necessary. It works. Jesus works. Yes, hundreds of thousands of miles in all kinds of airplanes. I’ll admit some of them looked as if they’d never get off the ground, or come down properly if they did get off the ground. One two-seater barely skimmed the tops of snow and glacier-clad mountains in New Zealand. I found myself lifting my feet as we went over the tops.

One helicopter had many cracks in the body of the plane, wide enough to put your hand through. Amazing. On our arrival in Honolulu, word came that Roland and Glenn would not be getting visas for Japan. There had been misunderstanding in application procedures. Missionaries in Japan should have contacted the U.S. military in Japan before visas could be granted in Washington. By the time the mistake was known, it was too late. We were already on the way. Neither Glenn or Roland did any grumbling or expressed lingering disappointment over cancellation of that trip to Japan. I was surprised at how quickly they turned from that shut door to what lay ahead. They were confident there was a reason for us being in Hawaii. And there was. Yes, relinquish any disappointments, doubts, selfish motives, and let God take control. During Saturday, our last day at the Church of the Crossroads, Glenn made several references to the camps farthest out in North America. Following the evening session, men gathered around him, wanting to know more about the camps and wanting to know if they could have one. Yes, Glenn said, if you can locate a place, arrange for our needs, and get word out about the camp. Seven of the men in the group were ministers. And they were from seven different denominations.

We thought that was quite unusual. And they volunteered to be the council ring and look after all details. Find a place where 50 or more people could be housed and fed for a five-day camp with adequate meeting places for talks, rhythms, creative writing, paper and pencils, proper supplies for creative art, a piano, and a local song leader. The three of us would handle the program, except the singing. That would be led by a local person. That was Saturday night. On Tuesday, the first camp farthest out, outside continental North America, began. Yes, these men agreed to handle all the details.

Jones, a very adequate campsite, probably belonging to the church of one of the men. Arrangements were made by phone that night. And each minister made announcements of the camp in the next day’s services. That’s fast work. It was an excellent CFO. I’m not going to tell you any details. You all know what a camp is like. It was just like this camp. Following the camp, our weekends and evenings were filled with appointments in many of the churches. During the free time, we enjoyed Waikiki Beach, walked up and down Kalakaua Avenue, where escorted by new and very loving Seattleers on sightseeing trips to Pearl Harbor, the Dole Pineapple Cannery, the pineapple and sugar cane fields, the National Cemetery, Robert Louis Stevenson’s grass hut, the university, the Bishop Museum, several art galleries, and all the rest of the places where visitors go. And it was wonderful. And we went to a luau, a Hawaiian feast. That was quite an experience. How many of you have eaten poi? Put up your hands.

Hmm. You’re brave. It’s a Hawaiian food made from taro root, cooked, pounded, kneaded to a paste, and often allowed to ferment. Then there’s wild fish, roast pig, and abundance of exotic fruit, pineapple, and papaya, and the rest. And of course, there is the hula. They love to get visitors involved in it.

Maybe I’ll have time to get off on a detour that has nothing to do with relinquishing or committing. Tell the story. But it is interesting. Tell the story. After we had been around a bit and seen much, I said to Glenn and Roland, “I’m going to take hula lessons.” And they said, “You are not.”

I countered, “Oh yes, I am. I have the name of a good teacher, and I’m going to make an appointment for several lessons beginning tomorrow.” Again, it was, “You are not.” I made the appointment. And the next afternoon, when the proper hour came to leave, I said, “I don’t know what you will be wanting to do while I’m gone, but I’ll come here, and I expect to see you sometime.”

I started for the door, and both of them got up and followed me. Out on the sidewalk, we started for the place where I was going. One of them on one side of me, and the other on the other side. I don’t know if they thought I needed protection, or what. We got to the place. I said, “I hadn’t expected you to come this far. You know your way back to the hotel.” I headed for the front door, and they followed me. I knocked, and a woman came to the door. “Oh, you’re Mrs. Brown. Do come in.” And I went in, and so did they, into a lovely reception room. I thought, it’s a nice, comfortable place if they want to wait here. The teacher had gone into the studio, and in a few minutes returned and said she was ready. I followed her, and they followed me.

There was a lot of technique to learn. Those of you who’ve seen the Who Live Course know there’s a lot of technique to learn. And they were all eyes. They didn’t miss a thing. When it was all over, I didn’t ask them how they liked it. I didn’t want to know.

The next afternoon, when it was time to leave for lesson number two, I said, “I’m going. I’ll come back, and I hope I’ll find you here.” They got up and followed me. It was a repetition. They didn’t miss a thing. The third day, and the fourth, it was the same. Of course, I bought some records, and a grass skirt, and brought them back to the States with me. I thought we could have some fun in the camps, and we did.

The scene changes. We were down in Athens, Texas, camp. It was after the evening talk. I have no idea why I had my rhythms music and the Hukilau song under my arm as I walked into the lobby of the main building. I certainly hadn’t planned on what followed. As I opened the door, I looked back and saw Glenn crossing the lawn, headed for the dormitories. And at the same time, as I stepped in, the fellow who was going to start the goodnight music crossed the room with a record in his hands. We had lovely goodnight music broadcast over the grounds at 10:30 each night. I called to him saying, “Here, take this,” and handed him the Hukilau song.

He didn’t look to see what it was. He just took it. I went to the window to watch what would happen and called him to come watch too. At the moment the music started, Glenn was under the light pole. And there, like on a stage under a spotlight, accompanied by the music and the words, “We’re going to a Hukilau. Hookah, how? Everybody loves a Hukilau. Where the laulau is the kaukau at the Hukilau. We tossed the net out into the sea and all the little ama come swimming to me. We’re going to a Hukilau. Hookah. Hookah, lao.” Well, he recognized the music.

Yes, and there on a stage under a spotlight, accompanied by the music and the words. He went into performance. He went through the whole thing, not missing a beat. And while it was going on, the people who had gone to their rooms came out in their bathrobes and so on to see what was going on. By the time he was finished, there was quite a circle with campers around him, watching him having the time of his life. It was great.

Shifting gears. God knew that we needed to experience Hawaii and the Hawaiians needed to experience us and the camp. Oh, it was great. We were greatly blessed. Glenn Clark likened Hawaii to the legendary island of Phaeacia, which Homer’s Odysseus symbolized as the island of the soul, where there was perfect weather all year round, trees always in bloom, fruit and grain always in harvest, and every need met. He talked about it for a few years. This island of the soul. The dictionary refers to Phaeacia as a place of undisturbed happiness. It seemed that way to us, except when we were at Pearl Harbor, the National Cemetery, or listening to our new friends tell about what happened on December 7, 1941.

And of course, that was still very fresh in their minds. I’ll never forget all the smiling faces with beautiful welcomes in their eyes and listening to the warm alohas on their lips at each session of the camp and the presentation of leis and the barefoot islander children playing with orchids in their hair. And the feeling that in this land of many races and nationalities that everyone accepted themselves and everyone else in the spirit of love and friendship. Love thy neighbor. And they do it. It is not just a saying.

Back to the man in the pilot seat. What does he do with all that equipment? I know there are a lot of you who know a lot more about what goes on in a plane than I do. I’ve been in the cockpit but not while it is in the air. I’m sure some of you fly planes. If I don’t interpret what I’m going to say correctly, forgive me. I’ve heard men who fly small planes talk about manually operating the controls or automatic pilot. There’s a little story about a plane load of passengers that taxi down the runway, becoming airborne and headed for Europe. After being out over the Atlantic, a voice came over the loudspeaker. “We are initiating a new type of service. Automatic. The plane is controlled from the ground. Remote control. Sit back and relax and enjoy the trip. There’s nothing that can go wrong.” Of course, that story doesn’t inspire peace of mind in those who are nervous about flying any more than what Starr Daily said to Roland a few weeks before our trip to Hawaii inspired peace of mind in him. And this is what Starr said to Roland. “Roland, I had the strangest dream about you the other night. I dreamed that you were flying to Europe and when you got out over the Atlantic, the plane crashed.”

And that was the end of you. Bless Starr’s heart. He didn’t know Roland had a phobia about flying. I understand a pilot can fly a plane manually in good weather, in open country where he can see where he is going. That’s following a visual pattern to his destination. However, there can be clear air disturbances, trouble when everything looks fine. A trained, experienced pilot knows what to do. Night flying is non-visual. Often, daytime flying is non-visual. Thunderstorms are confounding. Ground fog is confounding. Too much cloud is confounding. Snowstorms are confounding. The list is long. Automatic pilot is needed. Baffling as it is to us, the passenger, there are ways to get through, ways built into the plane.

And the pilot knows them. Planes that don’t have adequate equipment don’t fly in adverse conditions. Yes, the pilot can operate the controls or turn them over to automatic pilot. Turning the plane over to automatic pilot is not abandoning the controls. Automatic pilot means automatic control. I understand that you turn on, tune in, and follow the beam. In living the Christian life, turning on is honestly desiring that God take control. Let Him have it. Tuning in is seeking guidance, coming to have confidence as you have experiences with Him. Know His nudges, His love, His peace, His power. Know Him, trust Him, love Him, and obey Him.

Following the beam is living in positive relationship with Him. Let His will, not your selfish will, be done. Let His will, now yours, be done through you. Release to Jesus the things your conscious mind says won’t happen, but your subconscious mind says might. Offer your fears to Jesus. What are you afraid of anyway? Injury? Death? Insecurity? Being alone? Upset plans? 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and a sound mind.” Let the mind which is in Christ Jesus be in you. Offer your trust to Him and keep trusting whatever happens. Watch Him as He steers you through. Watch Him with joy and gratitude. If it takes time, remember, waiting times are not wasted times. Use them. If disturbances continue, fly higher.

With what spirit do you relinquish? Frankreich used to tell of the woman with a very ill baby, ill unto death. He told her about the power of relinquishment and to relinquish the baby completely to God’s care, whether here on earth or in heaven. At home, she came to the place where she could do it with complete integrity. Then she took the baby, carried it to the window, lifted it up, and with radiant acquiescence gave it to God to do with as He pleased. She gave it with radiant acquiescence. The baby lived. Dan believed that that radiance would have been just as powerful had the baby not lived. She trusted God.

The plane you or I are on might have mechanical difficulties. I’ve always known that planes might. And I wondered if I would be overcome with fear in the face of a crisis that might be disastrous. Or could I, would I, release myself to Jesus with radiant acquiescence, perfect love, and trust? Hopefully, my answer is yes. Based on experiences since I’ve come to know Him, my answer is yes. The following experience had the potential to modify that yes. I was traveling on an Air France plane from Paris to New York alone. Roland and I had parted ways at the Orly airport. He would be spending an additional two months in Holland, Germany, and England. An hour out of Paris, the hostess came out of the cockpit, spoke to the two men across the aisle, and the man seated beside me in French. Turning to me, she spoke in English. “Do you understand French?” I shook my head. Then she said, “We are returning to Paris. The landing gear is stuck. They can’t completely retract it, and they can’t lower it into landing position. They have been working on it since leaving Orly. We should be landing in Paris in less than an hour.”

And she disappeared into the cockpit without informing the rest of the passengers of the situation. After what seemed like ages, I realized we were flying counterclockwise in a huge circular pattern. I was seated in the front row, left window seat, so was on the inside of the circle with unobstructed view of the ground.

The hostess came out of the cockpit again, spoke to the three men, and then to me. “We are circling Paris, spending the fuel.” I wondered what spending the fuel meant. We couldn’t be circling Paris with all the fuel until all the fuel was used up. We had a full tank, enough to take us to Gander, Newfoundland. Spending must mean spilling. Why?

Yeah, I wondered. We kept on going to the point where I thought we ought to be able to see the runway soon. She came out a third time. She spoke to all the passengers. “Because we are having mechanical difficulty, we are returning to Paris and will be on the ground shortly. You will need to take all your hand baggage with you. You will be changing planes. Please fasten your seat belts when the signs are illuminated.” That was all she said. I had about figured out the problem with stuck landing gears. If the gear collapsed under the weight of the plane, it would be a sorry belly landing. If the gears didn’t collapse, would there be any problems taxiing in? Looking down, I noticed a lot of activity on the field. Vehicles were gathering along one runway. I noticed three large trucks, and two smaller trucks with large red crosses painted on the tops. I thought, they must be waiting for a plane. Then, they’re waiting for us. In a few minutes, the hostess appeared again. She spoke one word to the four of us, now. She continued standing there. I looked back and saw five or six male attendants spaced down the aisle, standing at attention. Turning to the window, I looked up and whispered, “Now, Lord.”

The plane approached the runway as smoothly as if it were being lowered in a huge hand. The touchdown was perfect, not a tremor. The landing gear held. As we taxied in, we passed an assortment of parked cars. The first big truck was a fire engine. The men were standing up in the truck, holding the hose, and as we passed, they kept a pointer toward us. The water wasn’t on, but it could have been on in a second.

Then we passed a second fire truck, and a third. Thrilling as the landing had been, the greatest thrill to me was the realization that I had a lot of curiosity but no fears. I can’t describe the sweetness of the joy that filled me then, and that fills me whenever I think of that whole experience. This has been built in for us. You will find in Ephesians, the third chapter, that you might be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man.

That Christ might dwell in your hearts by faith, that you might be rooted and grounded in love, that you might comprehend with all saints the breadth, length, depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, and be filled with the fullness of God. Now unto Him He is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us. And the power, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Father, our triune God at work.

Unto Him be glory throughout all ages, world without end. First John 14 16 says, we know that perfect fear, perfect love casts out fear. We know the words, do we know the experience? With what spirit do we let go and let God have His wonderful way? Are we with all our heart, mind, soul, and will letting His Spirit, the Holy Spirit, have control?

Let’s be quiet. I’m going to be closing with a poem that’s a prayer. Put yourself in it. Late online altar, O Christ divine, accept this gift today for Jesus’ sake. I have no jewels to adorn my shrine, no far fame sacrifice to make, but here within this trembling hand, I bring this will of mine. A thing that seemeth small, but Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand that when I yield Thee this, I yield mine all.

Hidden within, Thy searching gaze can see struggles of passion, visions of delight, all that I have or am or fain would be, deep, deep love’s fond hopes and longings infinite. It has been wet with tears and hushed with sighs, crushed in my grasp till beauty it hath known. Now from Thy footstool where it vanquished lies, my prayer ascendeth. May Thy will be done. Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail, and merge it so in Thine own will, that even it in some dark hour my cries prevail, and now give back my gift, and they have been so changed, so purified, so fair have grown, so one with Thee, so filled with grace divine. I may not feel or know it as my own, but gaining back my will may find it Thine. That’s quoted from Henry B. Wright, The Will of God. Yes, let go and let God have His wonderful way.

Let go and let God have His wonderful way. Your burden will vanish. Your night turn to day. Let go and let God have His way. So be it, Lord Jesus. Amen. Amen.