So, stay right here. These are the good ol' days.

A few days ago I felt like Carly Simon.
Yup.
I walked into a music store and got the strangest looks.
'Not that I'm famous like Carly, but I was a novelty.
Someone from back in the day.
'Like being the Grateful Dead resurrected or something.
It was kind of uncomfortable.

I think
I should feel at home in a music store.
After all, I worked in one back in the day.
I spent many days stringing and tuning guitars.
I gave lessons and had my own guitar.

Guitars were my friends.

There in that store I saw
them, all hung in neat rows.
Guitar after guitar greeted me.
My old friends....

Only the young men working there didn't know that.

As uncomfortable as I felt, it was kind of funny.
"Could I help you find something," one young man asked.
He was friendly, but I got the distinct impression he thought I was going to say, "I have no idea. I came in for my son..."
or, "I teach music and I need..." I have taught music, and done that.
The help is eager to comply. "Ah, she's a teacher. Ok. Of course."

But, no.
I was looking for supplies for my guitar.
That is a different story.

I mentioned maybe buying a new guitar strap.
I told the young man, "Mine is pretty old. It's from the seventies."
His eyes got big.
"Wow. I'd love to have a guitar strap from the seventies."

I paused.
I thought.
I felt like a walking museum with access to the Mona Lisa.

I looked at the guitar straps.
I decided I'd keep mine. My seventies strap is actually pretty fine.

I asked for guitar strings.
I have my favorite.
Maybe I was imagining, but I think the young man looked at me in surprise.

I asked for picks and was looking around the counter (when I worked at
a music store we had picks - different shapes and colors (including psychedelic) - in a large bowl - it was fun to go throught the bowl and choose several.)
He showed me the rack behind the counter.
Small bags of picks.
Ok. Well, I wanted the fine picks.
Boring.
I chose the red ones.

Once again, maybe I imagined that look of surprise.

Before I left I had to look at the music books.
There I saw, Aerosmith, James Taylor, The Allman Brothers Band, Dave Miller Band, Bob Dylan, Steely Dan...I'll stop there.

Times have changed, but then again...

I fit right in. These were my guys.
They filled a large portion of the section for music books (Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell).

I reminsced as I looked through the books.
Those were the days my friend.
We sat in the park playing our guitars.
I played in bands, alone, on the road, in churches, anywhere and everywhere.
My guitar taught me to play a love song.
John Denver and all the other guys lined up on those shelves helped.

When I got ready to leave, I noticed all the young men behind the counter.
They smiled.
A relic.
Was that how they saw me.


I didn't feel so out of place.
I'm part of an era that is ageless.
No matter how many years pass, we remain young at heart.
Our music doesn't grow old,  it gets better with age.

I smiled at the young men behind the counter as I left.
I don't know what they were thinking.
But, it's ok.

I'm gonna rock on.

Who knows...
Maybe....
just maybe,  they secretly wanted my autograph.

There in the Manger

 "The Savior, yes, the Messiah, the Lord - has been born in Bethlehem, the city of David...."
You know the story.

I've heard it ever since I can remember.
You probably have too.

I've heard the Christmas carols you've heard, too.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.
Holy Infant  so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace."

Every year I wonder at the wonder of it all...
How this little baby, born so long ago can still impact the life of man.
I love how the little baby Jesus ushered peace into a world so in need.

Peace....

The armies of heaven praised God saying "Glory to God in highest heaven and peace on earth..." (Luke 2:14).

He, the Christ child, the Savior brought it with Him.
Peace.

Months back I wrote about my son,who was going in for surgery*.
Well, it was postponed, till this week.

A few mornings before the surgery my devotional verse was, "My peace I give to you. My peace I leave with you. Not as the world gives do I give, but my peace I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27). The New Living Translation says it this way: "I am leaving you with a gift-peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid."

Immediate peace washed over me.
And it stayed.

Surgery is over.
It went well.
Through it all, God's peace kept me.
His peace is with me now.

His peace is available.
Find a quiet place in your heart.
It is there.

It's ours - this peace.

No matter what or where.
Peace.

His peace.
He gives it to us, and reminds us of it every year.

Look.
Go ahead.
It started with the baby in the manger.


*(In my blog archives 7/7/10-My Quiver is Full. A testimony of my son's faith.)

Take the fun and run

I'm like a kid at Christmas.
I love everything about it.

I must say,
my husband was taken by surprise our first Christmas season together,.

We had been married three months at Thanksgiving - still in early adjustment stages.
Immediately following Thanksgiving I began decorating.
"What are you doing." My new husband said.
"Well, decorating for Christmas! We need to get the tree up.' I smiled.

"What do you mean, put the tree up. It's too early."
"Oh no. I always start decorating around Thanksgiving. It takes time, you know."


Husband was in shock.
"It's not Christmas yet." He said.
"Well, when would you put the tree up." I said.
"Not till Christmas Eve."
I was shocked.

I put the tree up. I couldn't stand it. I had to.
Husband shook his head.

The tree was just the beginning.
The family room was the commencement.

Did I mention I love Christmas.

I go from room to room, decorating.
There's the tree in the family room, and another in the livingroom.
There's greenery on top of the bookcases.
Greenery on the piano.
A couple of beautiful nativity sets.
Santas and snowmen and angels.

There is meaning to my madness.

What a wonderful time of year.
Two thousand some years ago my Savior chose to come to this earth to shed His light in our lives.
He chose to bring His eternal life to this world.

It's a small thing I do.


For me it is a celebration of one of the greatest events in history (the other is Easter).
Christ the King was born!
My Messiah, Savior, Lord.
I get excited.
It is a holiday that is meant to be enjoyed.
It brings hope, peace and goodwill to all men.


Now, my daughter is married.
We talked the other night.
She has her tree up (I think she has two, actually).
Her husband shook his head.
She told him it's just the beginning....

Some traditions are meant to be passed down.
In my home, it's Christmas in every room.
Celebrate the Light.
Celebrate the Life.

My daughter has the idea.

Now, lets have a little Christmas, right this very moment.
Pass on the fun and celebrate.

Go ahead. Make your day.

Over-joyed.
It may seem a little early to be thinking Christmas, but I love the season.
I'm the mom who played Christmas carols in July before it was the thing to do.

Thinking about Christmas, and yes I'm playing Christmas carols; I was overcome with joy.
I was standing in my dining room, and
His presence came in like a big hug.
Indeed, my cup runneth over.
The love of God is shed abroad in my heart with gratitude.

Oh joy to the world. The King has come.
How humbling to think the great God of the universe loved me so much.
Like the words to an old hymn, "What wondrous love is this, oh my soul."

He picked me up out of darkness so great I couldn't see light.
He gave me life when it seemed that all was lost.
He filled me with His joy unspeakable and full of glory.
I am amazed and thankful everyday, for the life He has blessed me with.

There is a story of a man, a greeter in a church, who loved praise and worship, raising his hands and dancing to the praise music. During the greeting he would hug everyone.  But, some people were offended by his smell.  So, the board of the church took him aside and spoke to him. They thought he had been saved long enough, he should be more mature.
He told them he couldn't help himself. Everyday was a special gift from God to him, for God had delivered him from years of alcoholism. The joy he was filled with when he was first saved was new every morning. He was so thankful for the life God had given him through Christ.

The wonders of God are new everyday. It takes my breath away!

I think Thanksgiving and Christmas are closely related.
'So much to be thankful for. I can start at Thanksgiving and continue celebrating through Christmas.

So, what's my story?
Briefly,
I tried to reach God with religion and works. At the end of myself He saved me.
Through the years of following Him there have been times of dark tunnels of tribulation. He has proven that He is faithful - always.
He has made a way when there didn't seem to be a way.
He has been my provider, always on time.
He has been my healer when doctors were at a loss.
He has been my peace, when trouble was all around.
He has been my strength when I had none.
He has been my friend - always.

David in the Bible was so overtaken by the blessings of his Lord, that he danced with all his might, right in the middle of all downtown! (II Samuel 6:14)
Overcome with joy? You bet.  Like David, like the church greeter, I will dance.
I will sing.

There is none like our God: Emmanuel-God with us, El Shaddai-All sufficient One, Jehovah Eloheenu-the Lord our God, Jehovah Jireh - God my provider, Jehovah Shalom-God my peace, Jehovah Nissi-the Lord my banner of victory, Jehovah Rophe-the Lord my health/my healer. He is Adonai - my Lord, my Master.

He makes all things new again!
He is worthy of our praise.

Let's be thankful!
It 's ok.
Go ahead, sit back, relax, have a cup of coffee. Let Him hug you with His presence, as you sit, all wrapped up in a blanket of His love.

Hand to the plow, man!

'Ever have those days where it seems the line to heaven is quiet.
This last week was that way.
God was very quiet, which is fine.
But, I like to hear His voice.

Today He started talking again.

I listened.

When He wants to get a message across
He can.
He used my quiet time, my devotional,
the computer, the radio...the Bible.

Luke 9:62, "Anyone who puts his hand to the plow and look back is not fit for the Kindgom of God."

I'm not planning on looking back. No sir.

He was talking to me about decisions.
"Don't waiver on decisions."
When we make a decision for Christ, we are willing to take the appropriate action.

Making a committed decision is to be willing to take the risk.
Jumping in the water when you don't know how deep it is.

He spoke to me about not looking back. Not being afraid.
When He calls us to do something, He doesn't show us the whole map. We don't always get a job description including hours and vacation days.

It's more like Abraham.
"Pick up your tent. Leave what is familiar and follow Me."
Where?
"Just follow Me."

'Pretty vague,but very clear.

I believe when God calls us to do something we have a passion for it.
It is a desire of our hearts.

Sometimes that means letting go of something else.
Passion is about today.
Passion must never be feared.

He spoke to me.
"Press forward with the passion."

Ok, then.

There is no peace greater than knowing we are where He wants us to be.

What Jesus asks us to do brings life.

I know these sayings to be true.

He simply likes to remind us sometimes, that we are on the right track.
He encourages us to keep on going.

It may seem ludicrous to others, but its' ok.
I heard a message on the radio talking about passion and pressing forward.
Sometimes there are sacrifices made to be in His will.
But, sacrifices bring good things.
Amen.

I wasn't discouraged about where He has me.
It does seem bigger than me.
That's the way it's supposed to be.
I need Him all the time.
That's the way it's supposed to be.
He wants us to commit.
That's the way it's supposed to be.

I heard, too, "commitment - do not be detoured."
Now, that is me.
Sometimes, I have been detoured.
I'm committed.
But, I need to discipline my commitment.
Sigh. I am guilty.
Sometimes I can get sidetracked...on the phone, online, doing this or that.

In Christ there is no condemnation.
I am encouraged to press on.

Plowing on.

God has a plan.
The best place on earth is to be where He leads.


My prayer, "Lord, I thank You that You love us so much. You believe in us so much, You are not willing to leave us where we are. You stretch us. You have plans that are bigger than we are. I thank You for that. Oh, the plans You have for us are for good, not for evil, to give us a hope and a future. What an exciting life, with You. You are so good. Thank You. In Jesus name, Amen."

Life's this way.

"I'm loving my life." She smiled at me.

"But, this is how it happened." She smiled again.
We sat on the park bench and
she told me
her story:

"We met in college.
Both with dreams and bright futures.
Scholarships and ability.
I was swept away.
He was charming, good-looking and very thoughtful.
He sent me flowers and bought me gifts.
Such a gentleman.
He seemed to good to be true.
He said he loved me.

I believed him.

Then, it happened...

Nice girls don't get pregnant.
But, I did.

Impossible.
The doctor said sometimes those things happen.
A little close is too close.

I called him, knowing he would be there for me.
He was.

He came right over.

He wondered what people would think. After all, he was a star quarterback,
and had plans for his future. He had a scholarship to maintain.
I didn't understand.
I was a cheerleader, and had plans for my future, too.
So what..
How could any of that matter.

We were going to have a baby.

He looked at me.
'Make it easy on us.
Get an abortion.'

All of a sudden, I didn't know him at all.
Abortion had not entered my mind.
No, I hadn't considered abortion.
Nor would I.

He left.
I cried.
He didn't come back.

I had my baby, and I never looked back.
Evidentally, he didn't either.
But, it's ok."

A little boy came bounding to his mommy, holding a pink rose.
"Look, Mommy...for you."
The beautiful rose bush stood against the playground fence.
How could he resist.

I smiled at the young mom as she sat her little boy on her lap.
His arms around her neck, he placed his chubby little hands on her face.
"I love you, Mommy."

Tears welled up as I watched the two.
"You did the right thing," I touched her hand, his little head.
"I know," she smiled.

I got up and continued on my walk.
The young mom had something the world could never take away.

Little hands might have never touched her face,
had she made it easy for 'us' as the young man had said.

But, she didn't.

Maybe it was unplanned, a surprise.

Yet,
No baby is a mistake.

I got up and walked away.
I understood,
very well.

The Skater

There was no place I 'd rather be than the skating rink.

It's true...

I stood on my daddy's skates as he glided around the rink, when I was three.

I was his princess and I was on top of the world.

My daddy could've been an olympic figure skater...he was an awesome skater.

So, I learned to skate when I was three, skated in the middle of the rink with other beginners, and enjoyed watching my parents as they danced on their skates.

I clicked and clacked down the sidewalk in my green skates; waiting for the day I would be old enough to go to the skating rink by myself.

When I was probably in the sixth grade, the day came and I flung my skates (white, adult skates) over my shoulder and entered the skating rink, alone.

I loved the exhilarated feeling of the wheels whirring beneath my feet, as I raced around the curves on the shiny floor.
I loved feeling my hair fly as I sped past other skaters.
I loved the music, and the sound of other skates whirling around me.
I was at home.

When I was skating I was enough.
More than enough...
I was never afraid to go by myself. I knew I'd see friends there - or I'd make new ones.
I was sure of myself.

At one point, the lights in the rink were turned down low, and a colored ball would light up and flash different colors.
That meant it was couple skating time.

I wasn't afraid of being left out.
I would be asked to skate.
I wasn't afraid of falling and feeling stupid.

What confidence!

I didn't think about being too ugly, or too spindly (I was a skinny kid).
I was having fun.
It was enough.
I was enough.

I remember.
I marvel at that young girl.


What happened to the
"I'm enough" girl.
Where did she go.

I know what happened.

The skating rink closed.

I grew up.

Life happened, with disappointment and broken dreams and several broken hearts.

I wasn't enough anymore.
I lost my confidence.
I didn't believe in me anymore.

But, guess what.
Something happened.
Life has a way of happening.

I'm glad.

I got a brand new pair of roller skates.

I'm learning, from my Father in heaven who specializes in broken people,
that I am enough.

He's teaching me the skate of life...
I'm His princess.

He lets me stand on His skates as He teaches me how to skate
with confidence.
Sometimes, we skate together...side by side.

What a wonderful thing,
as I learn more and more of His unfailing love,
I know I am enough.

I can feel my hair flying back as I whiz around the corners, twirling, skating, dancing.
It is enough, because He is enough.
And, to Him, I am enough,

just because He said so.