Little John and Mr. A. Go Rabbit Hunting

“Oh, boy! Oh, boy!! It’s a snowin’ Mom, Mom,” hollered Little John, “can me and Mr. A. go rabbit huntin’ today?”

“I guess so if Mr. A. can go and if you promise to be back in time to help your dad with the chores.”

So, Little John grabbed his coat and cap and off he ran, hollering at Mr. A, who lived across the road.

“Mr. A.! Mr. A.! Mom said I can go rabbit huntin’ if you can go?” Little John yelled as he ran up onto Mr. A’s porch.

“What’s all the hollerin’ about, Little John?” Mr. A. asked as he opened the door.

“It’s a snowin’ and we need to get ourselves down in the field there where them rabbits will be a scurrin’ around and get us some. Mom’ll fry up a bunch of ‘em for supper tonight if we get back in time. And, you can come and eat with us.” Said Little John.

So, off they went. Mr. A. with his shotgun and Little John, his trusty .22.

“Why you take that old shotgun, Mr. A., instead of a .22 like mine?” inquired Little John.

Mr. A. had a far off look in his eyes.

“Well, Son, let me tell you a story about my shotgun days when I was a little boy. When I was about your size, my dad and I went rabbit huntin’ just like me and you. I couldn’t wait ‘till I was old enough to shoot me a rabbit with dad’s old shotgun.”

“Why a shotgun ‘stead of a .22, Mr. A.”, little John interrupted.

“Well, rabbits run fast you know and you can’t get a good bead on ‘em with a single shot so you use a shot gun and you just hope that one of them pieces of lead hits ‘em. Well, one day dad finally said I was old enough to handle his old shotgun. So, as we walked along, kinda like you and me’s a doin’, we scared up a bunch of rabbits.

‘Here, Son, blast away and see how many of ‘em you can hit!’ Dad said to me as he shoved his old shotgun ‘tward me. So, I took aim and pulled the trigger. Dad hollered at me ‘ Shoot ‘em again, Son, their still a runnin’ and you can get ‘em with a second shot.’ When I didn’t answer, Dad looked around and I was a gettin’ up off the ground. I handed him back his old shot gun. ‘Here, Dad, you shoot ‘em. That gun done hit me ‘side ah the head and my eye and I can’t see to shoot’ “

Mr. A. laughed and I laughed, too. I could just see Mr. A. when he was lyin’ on the ground in that snow, holdin’ his head and wonderin’ what hit him. And, I was just mighty glad I was a huntin’ with my .22.

Have you ever been broadsided with something you didn’t expect? Had a relationship go sour? Have you had a best friend share a confidence between the two of you with someone else? Have you ever had something so shocking it just knocked you for a loop? Ever lost your job and wondered what on earth you would do? Life is full of uncertainties. We can’t put our trust in anything or anyone completely as long as we walk this earth. But, the promises that God has made to us, you can bank on because God does not lie.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7 NIV

Little John and Mr. A. Go Fishin'.

“Let’s go down and check the minnow trap and see if we got enough of ‘em to go fishin’, what ya say?”

Mr. A., was a little old man about 80 and Little John was about 13. They loved to go fishing during the summer.  It was such fun just being together whether they caught anything or not. Mr. A. had a son who had been killed so Little John was like a son to him.

Mr. A. had a 1929 Model A sport coupe but he couldn’t drive. So, he let Little John drive when they went fishing.  Of course, back then, being 13 didn’t keep a young man from driving if he could see over the steering wheel.

“Yep, Mr. A., I think there’s enough of ‘em that we could probably fish all day,” said Little John, “I’ll see what Mom’s got for us to take to eat in case we’re not back in time for dinner.  Maybe she’ll let me fix us a couple of biscuits with some sausage, if there’s any left from breakfast.  I’ll be right back.”

So, off Little John ran to see what he could round up for the two of them. Within minutes, he came running back with a little sack containing a couple of apples and biscuits and sausage.

The two headed down the road to Mr. A’s.  They climbed into the Model A; Little John in the driver’s seat and off they went.

“You know, Mr. A., this old car sure could use a coat of paint.  It’s just a lookin’ pretty bad.  When we get back from fishin’ , what say I see if I can round up some paint and we’ll have this old thing lookin’ like new next time we go fishin’.”

Sure enough, Little John was able to round up some black paint and an old paint brush and in a few days, he walked over to Mr. A’s.

“Look what I got!” He said, holding up the bucket of paint and an old paint brush. “ You’re not gonna know this old car when I get through with it.” So, brush in hand, Little John painted and painted and, sure enough, when the paint dried, it shined like a new dollar never mind the streaks made by the old paint brush.

“Good job there, Little John,” said Mr. A. “I think you’re gonna make a fine car painter one of these days.”

One day not long after the new paint job, the two were headed off down a dirt road with Little John in the driver’s seat, of course.  All of a sudden, Little John looked out his side window and the back left wheel came rolling by.

“Oh my goodness, Little John, is that the wheel off this thing?”

“Yep, ‘fraid so, Mr. A.  I’ll see if I can get ‘er stopped and we’ll go get it,” replied Little John.

“How in the world did you steer this thing with just three wheels?” Inquired Mr. A.

Little John drew a long breath; looked over at Mr. A.

“Well, you know, I couldn’t tell but what it drove just as well on three wheels as four.” Little John said, laughing.

Memories from boyhood are sweet.  The memories Little John has of his adventures with Mr. A. make for a wonderful time of telling stories. And, I’m sure Mr. A. spent a lot of time in his later years recalling that young lad who cared enough to spend time with him.

“You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.” Leviticus 19:32 ESV

From My Kitchen Window

Okay, so I love my kitchen!  I especially love my kitchen when the sun moves across the sky during the fall and winter months.  The kitchen is in the front of the house, which faces south, so during the coldest part of the year, my kitchen is warmed by the sun, especially in the afternoon.  The pale yellow walls and white cabinets help lighten up the whole room. Oh, it could probably use some upgrading; new appliances and maybe granite countertops in place of the white ceramic tile.  But, it’s plenty good enough for me.

I have to admit looking out the window for the last year has been disheartening to say the least. So many pieces of construction equipment digging, filling, grading, leveling and pouring in order to convert the two lane highway to a five lane. But as I was washing dishes today in the sink, which is under the window, I didn’t see the now widened highway or equipment going back and forth.

 I saw family………..

When we moved to our home after living in our former home for twenty-one years, our daughters were already married. So, our new home wasn’t really home to them nor did it feel like home to us for a while. However, as time went on I realized that leaving our old home didn’t mean we had to leave our memories.

After we moved to our present home, I remember all the preparation for Thanksgiving that took place in our little kitchen over the years. There was always room for family to gather around, laughing and talking and occasionally lifting the lid from a pot on the stove to see what was cooking or peeking in the oven to see if the rolls were brown yet. Family would come in our back door bearing their contribution to the meal and saying, “Wow, it sure smells good in here!” and we would look in their baskets to see what special foods they had prepared for our meal.  There was always Son-in-Law’s pork loin, his Mother’s broccoli casserole, Daughter # 2’s sweet potato casserole and green bean casserole. Daughter # 1 always saw that we had plenty of rolls and usually a pie or two. And, the other Son-in-Law made sure he pealed enough potatoes to be mashed so he could have them for leftovers. I baked the turkey and made the dressing using a recipe that was passed down through generations. And, usually enough fruit salad, which our family calls Orange Junk, to accommodate Grandson # 2 and Granddaughter # 3’s big appetite for it.

At Thanksgiving, leaves were put in the two big dining tables to extend them; tables in the other rooms were set; chairs were gathered up from here and there and we sometimes managed to seat over forty people from near and far for our Thanksgiving meal.

As I gazed out the window today, my mind went back to the many Thanksgivings in the past. I could see the cars driving up our long driveway, bringing family and friends to spend another Thanksgiving with us.

Thinking back, I could hear the intense competition going on in a Monopoly game.  An occasional, “Oh, no!” followed by peals of laughter as one player gathered up handfuls of money from the others.

In my mind’s eyes, I can see all five grandchildren piled on the floor, arms and legs flailing wildly across the white plastic game trying to reach the red, yellow, blue and green circles depending on the color the caller yelled out.   In the end, they would be sprawled out, laughing and yelling, “I won! I won!”

Looking out my kitchen window, I remember another time when I could see our # 1 Grandson when he was about 15, sledding down our slanted yard, the snow flying behind him.  It didn’t matter to his Granddad that Grandson # 1 wiped out one of the yard lights before he could stop.

I could see our Granddaughters and Grandsons playing Frisbee with their Uncle and some of their friends one Thanksgiving. Our front yard is huge so there was a lot of room for throwing and chasing and falling down and laughing going on with the wind hurling that Frisbee every which way as they chased.

I could see four of our grandchildren before the last one arrived. They were scrambling for a position and then posing for a picture on the little concrete bench under the maple tree in our front yard; their hair blowing in the wind and smiles as wide as could be across their faces.

Our family is scattered now; Granddaughter # 1 and her husband, live in Texas. Grandson # 1 and his wife live about fifty miles away as does Daughter # 2’s family. Daughter # 1’s family is about three hours away and next Thanksgiving, Granddaughter # 2 will be married and living about five hours from us.  So, it’s difficult to get everyone together.

We moved to our present home the day before Thanksgiving twenty-seven years ago and still managed to celebrate Thanksgiving in our new home with family gathered around. So there have been a lot of good times centered around our little kitchen; lots of laughter and good food; lots of pictures made and stories told.  And, even though we can’t always be together physically for the holidays, we are always together in our hearts and that’s all that really matters.

God tells us to be thankful in all things.  And, I am thankful as I stand at my kitchen window and remember…………….

“And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Ephesians 5:20

Happy 14th Birthday, Genna Grace

In 1999, I was asked to teach a seminar at the Wedding Professional Photographers International in Las Vegas.  John and I were in our hotel room at the end of the day when the phone rang and I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom! What’cha doin’”, Daughter # 2 inquired.

“Well, your dad and I are just recouping from a very long and tiring day.  What’s up?”

“Are both of you setting down?” She said.

“Well, actually, we’re stretched out here on the bed.  Is that close enough?”

She laughed, “Yea, I guess.  We just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be grandparents again.”

“OH MY GOODNESS!” was my initial reaction. “When?”

“In about eight months and we are SO excited and so are the girls!” she said.

Our two granddaughters had been begging for a brother or sister for ages and now their wish was going to come true.

So, fourteen years ago today, Granddaughter # 3 made her entrance into the world.  I had assumed it would take several hours for her to arrive so, while John had stayed with the little girls, I packed  books, magazines, etc. in a bag and headed to the waiting room in the hospital. I should have realized it wouldn’t take long for this grandchild’s arrival if she arrived as fast as Granddaughter # 2. The waiting room was near Daughter # 2’s room and it wasn’t long until I heard a baby crying.  I rushed down the hall to the viewing room and there she was; screaming at the top of her lungs with her daddy standing and looking at her.

“Isn’t she the most beautiful baby?” He said.

“She certainly is.” was my reply.

Very soon, we were joined by another set of grandparents, a granddad and two very excited little girls, who couldn’t wait to see the little sister they had wanted for so long.

Happy birthday, Genna Grace, you have truly been a delight for our family.  Your sisters have loved you and helped you learn a lot of things even though sometimes they wonder why they ever wanted another sibling.  All joking aside, you are such an outgoing, loving, talented young lady who loves the Lord, and we can’t wait to see what He has waiting for you in the future!

“Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;

    you formed me in my mother’s womb.

I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!

    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!

    I worship in adoration—what a creation!

You know me inside and out,

    you know every bone in my body;

You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;

    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared

    before I’d even lived one day.” Psalm 139:13-16 The Message

Little John, His Cousin and the Cats

“Okay, Son, your mom and I are goin’ to California on vacation. You know we ain’t never had a vacation and after 40 years, I think it’s time that we do.  So, I’m trustin’ you and your cousin, Little John, to look after things while we’re gone. Main thing you gotta do is be sure you get those twelve cows milked mornin’ and night just like we’ve been a doin’.”

The next day bright and early, the boys headed to the barn. Milking then was all by hand. There weren’t milking machines to be hooked up to each cow while you stood by and watched.

“Get outta the way, cat.  You’ll get your fill in time.  Just get back over there with the rest of them cats and hang on ‘till Little John and me gets these stools pulled up here and sets down.”

So, they herded in the cows one by one. The cats raced over like always and gathered around waiting until one of the boys poured some milk in a little pan setting nearby.  The cats eagerly lapped it up and waited for more.

It was about that time that the wheels in Little John’s head began to turn.

“Hey, would you like to have some fun?  I gotta idea,” Little John said, turning to his cousin.

“I guess so. What’cha got in mind?” Replied his cousin.

“I’m gonna pull the old tractor up here by the door. Then, we’ll hook up a wire to one spark plug . Then, we’ll put the other end in the pan you’re puttin’ the milk in for them cats. It’s gonna be fun!” Said little John.

So, out he went giggling to himself. He could just see how those cats were going to react.  He drove the tractor up by the door and his cousin helped hook up the wires just as Little John had said.

“Now watch this,” said Little John.  As soon as the cats started lapping the milk, Little John started the tractor.  When the cats tongue touched the milk, out the door he flew and headed over the hill.

The boys laughed until they cried.  As soon as another cat lapped at the milk, Little John hit the starter again and the same thing happened. Soon, all ten cats were nowhere to be seen.

About two weeks later, Little John’s aunt and uncle returned and things were pretty much back to normal.

“Hey, you know, I haven’t seen those barn cats since we got back.  Were they here when you and Little John were doin’ the milkin’? Inquired Little John’s uncle.

“Yea, Dad. We fed ‘em just like we always did in that little pan over there.” Said Little John’s cousin.

“Well, I guess they’ll turn up in a few days.  Probably not use to me not bein’ here to help milk. Shucks, their probably out lookin’ for me.” Laughed Little John’s uncle.

“Probably so, Dad,” Said Little John’s cousin, “they were probably shocked because you weren’t here milkin.”

These two boys really didn’t mean to harm the cats. They just wanted to have fun. Little John didn’t realize that electric shock wasn’t a good thing for a poor little cat’s heart.  However, the big problem in this situation was telling an untruth.  A lie is a lie whether it be a big lie or a white lie. To God, all untruth is forbidden.

”Do not lie to each other. You have put out of your life your old ways.” Colossians 3:9 NLV

Across the Prairie Lands

"Hand me your pen, please," I said to my husband.

"What do you need my pen for?" He asked.

"I need to write something down quickly," I replied, reaching across the seat for the pen he always carried in his left shirt pocket.

"What do you need to write?"

"A poem just came to me and I need to get it down before it's lost." I told him.

"Well, if you can get inspired going across the flatlands of Kansas, you are some kind of writer," was his comment.

He handed me his pen and I hurriedly searched through my purse for a blank piece of paper.

"Girls, do one of you have a piece of paper I could have?", I inquired of our two daughters who were setting in the back seat.

"Here, Mom, you can have this one," daughter # 1 said, handing a piece of paper to me.

With pen in hand and words swirling through my mind like a tornado, I began to write. 

 

We were traveling across Kansas headed to Colorado on vacation. The trip across these badlands had been pretty boring so far as scenery goes. But, suddenly, as I looked across the wide expanse of land, I saw an old silo standing near an old homestead.  The graying wood of the old home and the broken out windows brought these words to mind.............

 

Old homesteads standing,

Gently framed against the sky.

A reminder of the past,

Of exciting days gone by.

 

As you see them your minds wonders,

Of the pasts those old homes hold.

Could they whisper but a word or two,

What stories would unfold?

 

The flatlands that surround them,

The waving fields of grain,

The barns, the sheds, the fields of corn,

Whipped by winds across the plain.

 

The silos standing straight and tall

As watchtowers in the night,

Are empty now of golden grain

Yet, sparrows take their flight……….

 

From windows broken out by winds,

That whipped those prairie lands.

From crumpled roofs built long ago

By strong, determined hands.

 

These pioneers of old were brave,

And strong and mighty men

Who came to conquer untamed lands

Inhabited then by Indians.

 

From break of day to dark of night,

A father with his son,

Would till the cool, dark sodden dirt,

For work must then be done.

 

A mother’s work began at dawn,

The young ones giving chase,

They’d race each other down the stairs

To reach the warm fireplace.

 

How peaceful must have been their lives,

How close the family ties,

With time to work; yet time to play

‘neath God’s own clear blue skies.

As I finished the sloppily written poem, I continued to wonder about the family that lived there.  How many hardships did they face? Were they a God-fearing family that taught their children about the love of their Maker?  I wondered how my family would have fared had we lived in the solitude of this land. And, I was reminded that God created this flat land just as he had created the hills back home.  He had loved these people just as He loved my family and He had a purpose for their lives just as He has a purpose for the lives of my loved ones.

 I was reminded as I looked out over the fields that Jesus said this:

“These were his instructions to them: “The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields.” Luke 10:2 NLT

There are people all over our world who are “ripe for harvest” but there are so few of God’s people who are willing to give of their time; yea, even their lives, to reap the harvest of souls for God.

Yes, God loves all people just as much as He loves your family and mine no matter where they live.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God, Please Give Me Assurance

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
 

 

I mentioned in my Facebook and blog posting yesterday that the poems I write come from different situations either I have experienced or someone close to me has experienced.

As I read the different posts on Facebook, I realize there are so many friends who are hurting; suffering from physical pain, financial loss or emotional trials. I pray for these people even though I may not comment on each of their pages.

God has placed all of us on this earth for a specific purpose. It would be wonderful if all of our lives could be perfect; free from hurt and strife. But, as long as we live on this sinful earth, we will have difficulties. And, it may take trials and tribulations for us to realize our reason for being.

In looking through some of my previous writing, I came across some things I wrote over the years. So, I want to share this poem that was written by me back in 2005. It was for a specific person with a specific need. However, I think it speaks to many today who are in the midst of difficulties.

I pray that it does…………..

 

Dear God, please give me assurance,

That I am yours; beloved.

Envelope me in loving arms

And shower me with love.

 

God said ‘My child, I feel your pain,

I understand your fears.

And, I am here so very close,

To dry away your tears.

 

You see, while here on sinful earth,

There are trials you must bear.

But, you can rest assured those trials,

Intensify my care.

 

If mountaintops were all you knew,

No valleys to walk through.

Then faith would not be needed here

To draw Me close to you.

 

I am your comfort, strength and rock

I’m your anchor and your guide.

Your help in times of trouble,

When you face the roaring tide.

 

It’s in the times of dark despair,

Your faith increases much.

And, I mold you for much greater things,

For lives that you will touch.

 

You see, my child, you were in God’s plan,

From the time the earth was formed.

I’ve known the plans I have for you,

 Before you were even born.

 

I gave you very special gifts,

No one is quite like you.

I’m molding you for greater things,

I have for you to do.

 

So just hold on to all I’ve said,

Hold on to God above.

Just claim My peace and healing power

For you’re sheltered in My love.”

Jo Ann

Copyright - 2005

 

 

 

 

Desiring to Write

I have wanted to write for almost as long as I can remember. But, there always seemed to be an excuse for not doing so.  First it was the lack of time with the promise to myself that when there wasn’t so much to do, I could be more creative and I would write. Secondly, there was the excuse of a place to write. After all, one cannot be creative unless one has a place of solitude, quiet music playing, a serene view of the mountains or seaside and a cup of tea. And , lastly, the whole idea that anyone would want to read my ramblings was foreign to me.  

Now, I have the time and the quiet place. I have quiet music available and mountains to gaze upon and a cup of tea if I choose.
 
Most of the time my creativity is the only thing lacking.

I believe all of us have been given a talent that we are to use to glorify God. I believe that if God gave us the desire to write poetry, prose, music, etc., He will also give us the creativity to do so. And, I believe that creativity comes from the heart. I have written a few poems in the past.  Those poems have not come when I sat down in a quiet place with quiet music playing, and a beautiful view. No, those poems have come during trials that have come; with tears that have fallen even as I wrote the words on a blank page. Or they have come at moments of ecstasy when a new grandchild was placed in my arms for the first time. Other times, my heart has been overcome with joy and thankfulness to the Lord.  My poetry has been written when I was heartbroken over an unjust situation or because of hurt that had been inflicted on someone  I loved.  Creativity comes from the heart and not from the expectation you or others have to create just because there is the desire.  To be able to use the creativity God has given you for His glory, you must write from the heart.

I do not know if my writing can be considered a spiritual gift but I do know His word says this:

“Take delight in the Lord,

    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

 Commit your way to the Lord;

    trust in him and he will do this.”

Psalm 37:4-5 NIV

 

 

Sounds of Home

“This door knob definitely needs some WD-40”, I said to my husband this morning.

WD-40 fixes any kind of squeak anyone might have. As I thought about that, I began to think about the different sounds in a home; sounds that we take for granted but would be missed if they were no longer there.

The familiar squeak in the floor in the hallway at night lets me know that my husband is up checking the temperature on our furnace or air conditioner depending on the season. So, I lie awake until he crawls back into bed knowing that the comfort of our room is on the way.

I think back to the squeaking floor in the hallway of our first house. After a long day with a crying baby, I would be trying to get some much needed rest. The squeaking floor and his gentle hum and a quiet child let me know that her Daddy was walking the floor and calming her before laying her back into her crib.

I miss those times.

I remember the sounds of Daughter # 1 and # 2 opening the front door at night. This was a comforting sound because I knew they had made it home safely from a ballgame, a friend’s home or a date. Then the tiptoed walk and the squeak in the floor in the hallway to our bedroom; the quiet tapping on our door and a whispered “Mom, are you awake?” assured me that, yet again, I would gladly listen to their tales of the evening.

I miss those shared confidences.

The sounds of a vehicle pulling into a driveway on a snowy night assured me that my husband had made it back from a hunting trip or a meeting some distance way. The key in the lock let me know that our family was together again and I could rest.

The sound of thunder and the flash of lightening in the middle of the night always was concerning. Would this be the night we would make our way to the den; open the door to our cellar and take refuge until the storm passed?

“Think I hear thunder so I’ll get up and see what it looks like outside,” my sleepy husband would say. Then I would hear the squeaky floor in the dining room as he made his way to look out toward the southwest. And, I knew that everything would be fine because he was looking out for us.

I take comfort in this.

The squeak of the kitchen floor in the early morning hours lets me know my husband is up for the day. And, very soon I hear the perking of the coffee pot and the opening and closing of cabinet doors. And, I lie there listening to the birds beginning to sing their morning song and my soul is blessed.

I cherish those times.....

Familiar sounds are part of a home. They are part of the memories we cherish through life.

Psalm 104:12- “The birds of the sky nest by the waters; they sing among the branches.” NIV

 

Wouldn't Life Be Boring Without Music?

“I’m SO excited, Mom!  Can you believe that I’m playing the actual sax that you played when you were in band?”

Granddaughter # 1 was so excited to know that the band’s saxophone was the same one her mother had played years before in the same school; same band room. And, like her mother, Granddaughter # 1 was also their drum major for two years. No piano lessons for her but she was in choir ; taught herself to play piano and guitar and married a young man who also plays base.

The love of music was being passed down.

Granddaughter # 2 chose to take band and played in the percussion section.  As I sat in the stands and watched her walk back and forth during each song between the many instruments in the percussion section from the bells to the xylophone; the timpani and other instruments, I was amazed at the calmness and confidence she portrayed.  It takes real talent to do something like that. Although Granddaughter # 2 wasn’t in choir like her two sisters, her love of music shows in that she can usually sing all the words to songs she enjoys. Not only that, but her fiance is a guitar performance major in college and plans to teach in a college when he receives his degree.

Yes, the love of music will be passed down.

Granddaughter # 3, almost 14, is now showing her musical talent through a year of percussion in band and now in her second year of choir, recently being chosen 3^rd chair alto in regional competition.  And, she sings The Star Spangled Banner before a lot of  her schools ballgames; something I would never have attempted even at a much older age.

And, as I mentioned in an earlier post, both grandsons have a love of music and played or now play instruments of various kinds.

Wouldn’t life be boring without music? I can’t imagine my life or the life of our family without music. It has been said that music is a communicative activity which conveys to the listener moods, emotions, and thoughts. Music can lift one’s spirits or drag one down to the deepest depths. Music can mean one thing to one person and another thing to someone else.

I think the highest honor one can give music is to use it to glorify God.  The music one hears from one of God’s smallest creations; the song bird, is truly one of the most beautiful sounds of all.

“The flowers are springing up,

    the season of singing birds has come,

    and the cooing of turtledoves fills the air.” Song of Solomon 2:12 NLT

 

“Good people, cheer God!

    Right-living people sound best when praising.

Use guitars to reinforce your Hallelujahs!

    Play his praise on a grand piano!

Invent your own new song to him;

    give him a trumpet fanfare.” Psalm 33: 1-3 The Message

 

Mom, I Really Want to Play in the Band.

“I’ll ask your dad but I think it will be okay if you want to be in band,” I told Daughter # 1.

“I really, really want to, Mom,” she said, “I hope he’ll say that it’s okay.”

So began the days of practicing, marching, band concerts, band trips, competitions, etc. for Daughter # 1. Piano had interested her in the beginning but it didn’t hold the excitement she thought band would. So, she chose the clarinet.  Bringing it home to practice that first evening was quite a treat.   She hadn’t learned to play any songs  but just being able to blow into it; place her fingers on the key holes and get some sort of pleasing sound was such a treat. Eventually, just random sounds developed into actual songs as Daughter # 1 continued to practice her chosen instrument.

“Mom, MOM! Make her quit blowing that horn in here! I can’t practice my piano and I have a lesson tomorrow,” yelled Daughter # 2. 

“YOU stay at this piano and practice and YOU go back to your room to blow that horn or take it outside!” I said, pointing at each of them as I spoke.

And, so began the many afternoons and evenings of musical conflict in our home. But what joy it was to watch Daughter # 1, donned in her brand new band uniform, marching in the local fair parade and other parades around the area.  The band had been the lucky recipient of much needed uniforms provided by a man who had grown up in this area; had gone on to open a lot of chain stores and had now given back to his community.

  In a few short years, Daughter # 2 joined the ranks of the bandies.  She never gave up her piano but added an alto sax to the mix. Now both daughters were bringing home horns to show their dad and me the latest tunes they had learned to play.  And, it was the beginning of what seemed like endless nights of setting out in the cold on the hard bleachers at a football game just to hear our daughters play and watch them march. Often we found ourselves setting inside a stifling hot gym at a basketball just to hear the band play from the bleachers. There were also those horribly cold Branson and Harrison Christmas parades to endure.And, now, Daughter # 2 had attained the rank of drum major, which meant a scantier mode of dress in the biting cold.

Both daughters survived the rigorous practices with only one of them passing out once during the summer while on a very hot practice field.

Memories of those years are precious.  It’s wonderful to be able to think back to not only the difficult times of scheduling our work activities around our girl’s band activities, but the joyful times seeing their smiling faces as they recognized us in the crowd.  Occasionally, they would sneak a small wave to us when they should have been paying attention to the band director. It’s great to pull out the photo albums and relive those times.

And, once again, as a parent of daughters who participated in musical activities and grandchildren who have followed in their footsteps, let me encourage you to make time for those activities your children love and excel in. Encourage their efforts when their horn squeaks because their finger wasn’t exactly where it should have been on their horn or when a sour note is sung or played on the piano.  This is a part of the learning process and a part of the memories they also have and can pass on to their children and grandchildren.

“Then the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, saying, “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.” Revelation 11: 15 ESV

Daughter # 2 and the Piano

Daughter # 1 and Daughter # 2 both had an interest in the piano when they were growing up. So, my beautiful, upright piano was moved once more and lessons for Daughter # 1 began.  They lasted about three months and she decided she wasn’t learning fast enough.  There were more important things she could be doing with her life she decided.

When Daughter # 2 was about seven years old, she began to beg for a chance to play the piano. I was the church pianist at the time at the big, red brick church down the street from the post office, and that was what she wanted to be. So, lessons began and she showed real talent. I remember her first piano teacher saying the first time Daughter # 2 laid her hands on the keys of her piano, she knew she had what it took. Thank you, Ms. Sue, for your talent, encouragement and patience that started Daughter # 2 on the track to becoming the musician she is today.

Like Daughter # 1, Daughter # 2 loved playing the piano but practicing everyday was something else.

“If you will just continue with lessons through the summer and if you don’t like it then, when fall rolls around and school starts, you can quit,” I told her.

So, it was that she stayed with it; grumbling all the while. Finally, just before school started, something clicked……songs began to come forth from that big upright piano and she was hooked. From then on, every time I would sit down at the piano to play, she would suddenly feel the urge to practice.

It was first recital time at the Christian Church. I made her a little blue long dress with a big white collar and she was so excited. She played………..and she played well. From then on, she was the pianist of the family.  By seventh grade, she was playing for all the school activities. By ninth grade, she was giving piano lessons.  The John W. Schaum piano books; red, orange, purple and brown, were the books her students used.  She became our church pianist at the big red brick church down the street from the post office and eventually the pianist in other churches.

The old upright piano has been refinished to a beautiful, shiny oak. It sat in her livingroom here in town where she again gave lessons from those John W. Schaum; red, orange, purple and brown books. After her family moved a few years ago, that old piano moved with them. Once more it sets in her living room. She doesn’t give lessons now but rather teaches school. However, the piano that first sat in my living room nearly sixty-five years earlier, still sounds wonderful when she touches its keys.

I visualize my great-grandchildren will someday be playing on that old upright piano.....my piano.......from so many years ago.

I think God has a lesson here for all of us. No matter the age of the instrument or the person, both can still bring glory to the Father in their own special way as long as they are dedicated to their purpose in life.

“Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.” 2 Timothy 2:21 ESV

What is Your Passion?

I’ll be back to music tomorrow but I want to share some ideas from the message we heard at church this past Sunday.

What is your passion?  What excites you to the point you cannot keep still?  You have to share your passion with whoever is near whether they want to hear or not. Our family; especially our grandchildren are one of my passions. I will haul out pictures of them at the drop of a hat. And, I will brag about them to anyone who will listen.

Do you remember when you fell in love?  All you could think about or talk about or dream about was that special person.  You had a passion for them and you wanted everyone to know it so you shared your pictures and wanted to tell everyone you had finally found the person of your dreams. And, the more you were with them, the more you learned about them and the more you loved them.

Have you ever been passionate about Jesus?  Is He important enough in your life that you can’t keep what He has done for you to yourself?

Our passions identify us……….

Do people know you because of your passions? How does your passion for your Savior compare to your passion for your favorite football team; for your hobby such as fishing, hunting, golf, shopping, music, traveling, etc. If your passions are honorable, they have come from God.  God wants us to enjoy our life here on earth; to be passionate about the things we enjoy and the people we love. But, He wants us to become passionate about Him to the point we will share Him with others everywhere we go.

In order to be passionate about God, we must learn about Him just like we learned about the love of our life. You cannot love someone you do not know. We must be in His word and fellowshipping with other believers who will encourage us and us, them. A passion is caught more than taught. Have you ever been around someone who is so excited about something, you are caught up in their excitement and suddenly, you become passionate about the same thing?

Will people become passionate about the God who saved you because they see the passion you have for Him? Or does your passion for other things take priority over Him.

Will your passion in this life matter in eternity?

Think about it……………..

“Walking along the beach of Lake Galilee, Jesus saw two brothers: Simon (later called Peter) and Andrew. They were fishing, throwing their nets into the lake. It was their regular work. Jesus said to them, “Come with me. I’ll make a new kind of fisherman out of you. I’ll show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass.” They didn’t ask questions, but simply dropped their nets and followed.” Matthew 4:18-20   The Message

Fishing was something Simon and Andrew were passionate about. It was something they did every day for a living. And, they didn’t hesitate or question Jesus when He asked them to follow Him. And, if you follow these two brothers through the bible, you will see that the more they knew about Jesus, the more passion developed for their Savior.

 

Singin' from a Tree Stump

“Ah, let him go along again.  He’s really not any trouble.  I’ll watch out for him.”

Little John’s Dad’s friend was hearing the pleas of Little John, who wanted to go along with his Dad and the friend to cut wood.  Little John wasn’t old enough to go to school and just hangin’ out with his Mom was pretty boring for the little guy.

“I promise I’ll be good and I’ll stay outta tha way of dat ax. Please, Dad, let me go wif you.”

So, Dad relented.

“Get your jacket, Son.  I’ll tell your Mom you’re going with us.

So, off they went; lunch pails in hand and an ax thrown over their shoulders.

As they begin to chop, Little John began jumping around and climbing over fallen trees. Finally, they chopped down a tree leaving a stump that was big enough for Little John to stand  on easily.   So, there he stood for the whole world to see.  Suddenly, he burst forth with a song.  He sang and twisted around on that old tree stump.  The longer he sang; the louder he got. Finally, the two men stopped their chopping, turned around and stood listening to his latest rendition.

“Say, he’s not too bad for a young sprout. If he keeps on, he’ll probably be singin’ on the radio before we know it” said Little John’s dad’s friend.

Little John’s singing was just the beginning of his love of music. Who would have guessed that in just a few years, he would be standing on the hillside with his best friend, blowing his little bugle, scaring a pasture full of cows and exciting a yard full of school children. From then on, Little John continued to sing.  He sang wherever anyone would listen whether it was a tree stump or at church. Sometimes, he was playing his double necked steel guitar AND singing. In his later teen years, he was playing his double necked steel guitar on the Ozark Jubilee television show in Springfield.  And, even later, singing with me and another couple at the Albert E. Brumley Sundown-Sunup show in Springdale.

Parents, if your children are blessed with a musical talent from God, get them in a church where they can use that talent for His glory and bless other people with their gifts.

Music and the love of it………..you never know where it will lead.

 

“Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

     Worship the Lord with gladness;

Know that the Lord is God.

    It is he who made us, and we are his

    we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

 Enter his gates with thanksgiving

    and his courts with praise;

    give thanks to him and praise his name.

 For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

    his faithfulness continues through all generations.” Psalm 100 NIV

Finally the Big Day Came !

Finally, the big day came!  I was to start piano lessons!  It was a Saturday morning and my music teacher was coming to my home at 9:00 sharp.  I was up at the crack of dawn “practicing” my piano.  Looking out the window, I saw her drive up.   She was a kindly, older lady who always wore a hat and glasses.  She was very soft spoken but when she sat down at my piano and began to play, she was everything but soft!  Oh, if I could only play like that……….someday, I told myself………someday.  When she left that day, I had my first real honest-to-goodness piano book and, not only that, but I had a note speller book; the John W. Schaum purple piano book. Was I ever proud! I told myself right then that someday, I would be the best pianist in the world……they would see. My John W. Schaum piano book and red note speller book and I were going far!

As I got older, I was still practicing my piano although I had a different teacher.  Our preacher’s wife gave lessons in her home behind our church, which was the big red brick church down the street from the post office, and my first piano teacher thought I was advanced enough to graduate to our preacher’s wife’s lessons.  So, every week after school, I went to her home.  By this time, I had graduated to the violet book and I had finished several spellers. I even acquired a polka book and the book of sacred songs. I enjoyed playing the piano but practicing became a drudge.  I enjoyed making up my own songs and playing by ear. My piano teacher let me know that reading music and playing by ear didn’t mix well so it was a constant battle for me to practice.  I would much rather play the latest song I had heard on the radio.

My piano was a great companion as I was growing up. I used what those piano teachers had taught me, not only for my own enjoyment, but I also was church pianist and organist at one time at the big red brick church down the street from the post office. We have had a Wurlitzer Fun Maker organ for nearly forty years and I play it for my enjoyment. And also a standard sized electric piano that is such fun to play. However, playing any musical instrument is the same; if you don’t play every day and continue to push yourself, you tend to lose some of the ability you had.

Grandson # 1 inherited mine and his granddad’s love of music. He took piano lessons also when he was about seven years old.  He liked to play by ear also but did very well following the notes in his book. Next was the harmonica.  My daddy, his great-granddad, loved to play the harmonica. In fact, Grandson # 1 inherited one of his great-granddad’s harmonicas. I just knew that someday he would be a famous harmonica player………..probably on the Grand Ole Opry.

Grandson # 2 followed in his older brother’s footsteps and is taking piano lessons now.  He, too, loves to play by ear and write his own songs. But, he has a talent and I expect him to continue and become prolific in his playing.  Whatever my children and grandchildren do with their musical talent, I want them to enjoy it; that’s the main thing.

Are you encouraging your children to use the talents God has given them?  Do you praise them for the efforts they make when they find the things that really interest them? Things they excel in? Children look for encouragement; they look for someone who appreciates what they do.  If they don't find that in you, they will find it somewhere else.

There are more stories about music in our family and I hope you aren’t too bored if I continue to share them.

“The Lord will save me, and we will sing with stringed instruments all the days of our lives

    in the temple of the Lord.” Isaiah 38:20 NIV