I’m on a quick flight from Southern California to Phoenix. I can’t see the ground because the smog is so bad. It’s horrible! I couldn’t believe it…an hour from Los Angeles, and the horizon is smoggy. The sky is only blue when you look straight up.

Yesterday before my talk I walked around Alta Loma. It’s a beautiful area, nestled right up to the mountain. I walked the streets up the mountain and spun around to catch a view of the city. It was just smog. It was like looking into a puddle of milk.

How messed up is that? People live the high life, driving big fancy cars to their palatial homes on the mountainside. They pay millions for the views, and now they can’t see anything because of the exhaust from their neighbor’s big fancy cars. I don’t know if it’s poetic justice or pitiful.

There were some wonderful teenagers at St. Peter and St. Paul last night…such prayerful, faithful people. After a messed-up hike up the mountain, they really gave me hope for the future.

Last night Dustin and Christie came to see me after my talk. After six ties, we finally found a restaurant that had a heart to serve us food. They handed us a greasy bag of fried food and locked the doors. We sat down on outdoor tables and caught up on what’s been happening since they’ve moved out here from Phoenix. It was such a good time catching up. Wow…we’re already setting down in Phoenix. I better turn this off before another flight attendant yells at me. (This happens to me at least twice a week.)