Traveling the Rock Road

I used to get invitations to speak at youth groups, mostly church affiliated, about my past life playing in rock bands and taking drugs. Of course the purpose wasn’t to bring accolades to these subjects; it was to talk about a dark past with no hope of a future that is until I came to know Jesus as Savior. This wasn’t an unusual method that some churches were using back in the 70s in an effort to deter the teens of the day from making mistakes. And since I also had heard ones speak on this subject, I learned it wasn’t that hard to emulate. For 45 minutes you would tell incredible stories like almost making it to the top, but drugs became the hammer that made all the dreams come crashing down, leaving life in complete desolation. I would tell stories that would keep my audience in awe with some funny tales thrown in so the mood wouldn’t get too heavy, that is, until the big crash and burn. But take heart, all would be salvaged in the last few minutes by taking about Jesus and how I was now a changed man. Afterwards people would crowd around to tell me how my story encouraged and convicted them to do right. Truthfully, it left me feeling pretty good up as I sat there on my high horse; that is until one comment from a young boy knocked me right out of the saddle.

I noticed him sitting by himself toward the back of a group I was speaking to one evening. This pimple-faced youngster kept the same blank stare on his face during the whole presentation. At the close others came forward to talk to me, but I noticed him again standing in the distance still staring with that same empty expression. When I able get away; I walked over, shook his hand and introduced myself. “Well it’s obvious you have something on your mind,” I said. “Is there anything I can help you with?” That was a question I wished I hadn’t asked soon after.  “You spoke of your wild life and of your change; everybody thinks you’re pretty cool. Well I’ve never drank, took drugs smoked or used foil language. I’ve known Jesus all my life and try to do the things the Bible says I should.” That’s awesome,” I told him. Then he continued, “So why does someone like you who lived a life doing wrong seem great to people and someone like me who’s tried to do right gets picked on and treated like I’m weird?” I put my arm around his shoulder and said, “You’re doing awesome and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Even though I tried convince him that he wasn’t looked at as weird, truth of the matter is I knew he was.

His words rang in my ears all the way home and that night when I tried to sleep. I’d seen kids like him all my life; be it classroom, sports, recreation and yes even church youth groups, you’ll always find that one who doesn’t fit in simply because he’s different perhaps like my young friend here. Because of his convictions and ways he was seen as different than the rest, the square peg trying to fit in a round hole as some would say. Those differences made him a target for teasing and insults, an outcast from the very ones who should have been his support, his friends. Then along comes someone like me with stories of hell-raising which were alright to tell so long as I took a moment to go, “Yea God” at the end. That young man’s remark made me take a hard look at myself and ask what I was doing that was so great anyway and who was I really doing it for.  Corrie ten Boom said, “It is not my ability, but my response to God’s ability, that counts.”

Whenever I spoke I emphasize all “I” had done, truthfully not giving more credit to God for a changed life. That’s not saying I was faking a belief in the Lord, I just hadn’t taken the time to get to know who I was supposed to be representing, while totally missing opportunities to tell of His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness.

I remember opening the Bible and seeing these words for the first time – “All a person’s ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the Lord.” (Proverbs 16:2).   In other words “Man sees your action, but God sees your motive.” Here was an avenue that made me popular with many, but did little to tell about Christ who I claimed to represent. There’s a saying from my neck of the woods that goes like this, “That dog don’t hunt!” That lad’s question showed me how my testimony was nothing more than a farce, something to make me look good while forgetting to pay rightful tribute to the One who made me who I am today or to quote an old hymn, “a sinner redeemed by the blood of the Lamb.” To some that may not sound as cool as playing Rock music or having a Psychedelic drug experience, but when you look at it from a standpoint of what God offers us eternally, well it’s more awesome than your wildest dreams.

I stopped taking speaking engagements and became a little known blog writer in hopes of telling a little of my story and a whole lot of my Savior’s. Do I accomplish that? Well time will tell, I guess. As for the young “Traveler of the Rock Road” that challenged me, I hope to one day run into him in Heaven.  I have something to tell him,“You may not remember me, but you’re one of the coolest people I ever met. You are my Hero!”
See ya next time.

During the summer of 1972 I took a job at a convenience store that sat across the road from East Harbor State Park on Lake Erie. The job didn’t pay a lot and it was too far from my hometown to make it worth driving. But this was going to be my 1^st summer totally on my own and I was excited for the adventure, even if it meant sleeping in a tent; which was exactly what happened. Not able to afford rent, I borrowed a tent from my girlfriend and took up residence at the park in the primitive camping section. Now that might sound fun to you young people (and I’ll admit parts of it were) but if your idea of a good time is making dinner out of a bag of Frito’s and a soda (and then the same thing for breakfast), having a 50 yard walk, especially in the dead of night to the restroom and shower house that was always smelly and never any hot water, heading to bed as soon as night comes on because you don’t have a TV or stereo or “electricity,” and the best part, wearing clothes that smell so bad from not being washed that the flies won’t even come around you, then yep it was awesome! Okay yes it was bad, but things did get better.

A gal in the camp store showed me how to use the washer and dryer they had, other campers were kind enough to share food and meals with me and I came to enjoy the tranquility and serenity the outdoors had to offer after a day’s work; that is until Friday night rolled around. It was then the campground would fill up with young people, the air would be filled with the smell of burning wood, hot dogs and beer would be plentiful and the party would be in full swing until the early hours of the next day. I enjoyed Fridays for all the reasons mentioned, but it also brought friends from my hometown who were glad to see me and more than willing to share whatever intoxicating beverage they brought with them. Those moments with friends and getting crazy made all the other problems fade away. And yes we were drinking too much and even smoking a little marijuana, but we were young having the time of our lives and we weren’t hurting anybody, not even ourselves. So it seemed.

One evening I left the group I had been partying with and took a walk around campground to see if there was anyone else from home that might be there. Sure enough on the far side I came across a group standing in the dark around a tent not really doing much. I was going to walk on past when I noticed a figure of a person that seemed familiar. “Hey Rick,” I called and the individual walked over. Sure enough it was an old friend I use to hang out with in junior high. John, good to see you; hey can we borrow you flashlight for a few minutes?” Taking my light Rick hurried back to the tent where a young woman and two very large men were. “Its dream time children,” the gal called out in an airy voice. About a dozen disappeared into the tent leaving me in the darkness to wonder what the devil was going on. It wasn’t long before I figured out the answer. One by one they emerged from the tent each holding one arm close to their body and bent up at the elbow. Slowly each sat down wherever they could or just stood staring into the black night. “Thanks” is all I heard as the girl and her two bodyguards walked past, handed back my flashlight, then got in a car and left. Took me a few seconds to find where Rick was, then I noticed him sitting on the ground near the tent. “Hey you okay buddy?” The expression on his face was now much different from the one a few minutes prior, like someone slowly waking out of a deep sleep. “Yeah, John I’m great, good to see you.” I wanted desperately to look in the tent but another guy seemed to be standing sentry blocking any chance to taking a peek.

Returning to my group I told them about Rick and what went on, to which a couple of them verified my suspicions. These people were shooting drugs into veins with a needle; mainlining. To use the cliché “The age of innocence was over.”

Over the years I have thought often about that night and people I’ve known that moved from the casual buzz a few beers or a little reefer would bring, to experiments with hallucinogenics like LSD and finally graduating to drugs like cocaine and heroin that offered an immediate but temporal escape from reality. Few that fell into that final category are with us today. For the longest time when I look back at that summer of change I asked myself why would anyone do such a thing?

Writer Dan Pearce says; “We all have to escape from this thing called life sometimes. Maybe we use substances to do it. Maybe we use religion. Maybe we use exercise. Maybe we use anger. But we all have to do it. *How* we do it is what defines us.”

The more I thought about it the more I had to agree with Dan. There are many who have a problems coping with life as they see it. So they immerse themselves with things that help keep the real world out–drugs, alcohol, shallow relationships, workaholic, and yes even religion. But as before mentioned, none really are lasting remedies to the real problem, which when we spell it out is how you, me, all of us, really cope with the good and bad of life.

I imagine in Pearce’s theory he would say I chose religion as my life escape. But frankly I would have to disagree with him; first I don’t see myself as a religious man, but a man of faith. Secondly I don’t use my faith as an escape from life, but rather a mechanism to enhance the world and the joy that is around me.

Once again I quote C.S. Lewis, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

As fellow “Travelers of the Rock Road,” all of us will have situations that are more than we can handle by ourselves. So do we take a temporary route to the tackle the problem only to find it still exists, or do we look for a permanent, an eternal solution that gives hope, joy, and life?

I know this is a little darker than I usually write, but its weighed heavy on my heart ever since I learned Rick’s life ended way too young and, from what I’ve learned from others, with no hope, no joy. Then I realized I’ve know a lot of Ricks. I bet you do also.

Perhaps next week I’ll lighten back up, but for now let me leave you with my favorite Bible passage, Romans 15:13 – “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Hope, joy, peace. Awesome!

See ya next time.

One of my Bethel Journeys took place 12 years ago shortly after the doctor informed me of a possible malignant tumor in my left lung. I was to be scheduled for more testing immediately, but instead Cathy and I made our way to the Blue Ridge Mountains where we hiked trails that lead us to awe inspiring cascading waterfalls and overlooks to majestic mountains. When we returned home I had the procedures done the doctor and it was found I did not have a tumor.

Another time found me alone walking a mile or better of Lake Erie shoreline in the dead of winter. The water was frozen and brilliant white like Arctic tundra, the wind was whipping around me with a haunting high pitched melody as it skirted across the ice and into the tree line on the shore. The sun was brilliant on that frigid day, with a crystal blue sky that seemed to stretch forever to meet the horizon. A few days later I took a job that didn’t pay as well as I was making at the time but would end up being my occupation for years to come.

Then on a couple of occasions I’d travel back to my birth home in Southern West Virginia and spend hours driving the country back roads through, around and over the mountains that I love so dearly there, and remembering my childhood and the many wonderful people I knew as family that once lived there. At the end of one of those visits I forgave, in my heart, several people I held ill feelings toward.

This last Bethel Journey really didn’t take me to one place, but more continuous driving past lakes, down country roads lined with miles of farmland, quiet drives in a forest and back roads through scores of little communities that make up the landscape commonly referred to as Americana. At the end of this earth bound voyage, I now begin my transition into retirement and whatever God may have in store from here on.

So what exactly is a Bethel Journey and what is its main purpose? Well to say I’m going to Bethel is symbolic really; as you can tell I’ve gone to numerous places and it’s impossible for each place to be named the same. But it isn’t as much about a place as it is a, well, a renewing, a recharging of my life. But mostly it’s relational as it is time spent alone and in communion with the one I call Lord. This is time totally dedicated to talking to God, reading His Word, listening for that small voice inside me that says “I’m here for you.”

In the Bible (Genesis 35) we read about Jacob and his first encounter of meeting God and hearing his voice was at Bethel. Without a doubt when he left that place Jacob left a changed man. But as time went on there were problems and most likely a slipping away from the things in his life he promised to turn over to God. So he returned to Bethel where he renewed his vow and God blessed him once more. Well, for this man there are many times I realize my walk with the Lord is not what is should be, even during times I’ve needed his help the most. When those moments become more than I can bear alone, I return to Bethel. For me it’s found in God’s creation, in the hills and the valleys, in the streams and lakes, in the ocean and the fields. All places that I take in the beauty of this earth become Bethel to me. And when I make these return trips it is spent in hours of prayer, not with formal words to try and impress Him, but conversation, just like you and I would have. Telling Him all that’s on my heart, saying I’m sorry for the times I wander from His guidance, thanking my God for all the blessings (as well as naming them) that He has allowed in my life. And thanking Him for always caring for me; no matter what I do His love stays strong continuously. During these journeys there’s very little radio or TV, this is meant as a time solely set apart to spend with my Lord.

Now then, saying all that; do these Bethel Journeys make me a better person, kinda of a Holy Joe of sort? Nope, I’m still just me, nothing incredibly special. These times are purely meant for giving God all of me without any outside interference. To talk, listen, learn and even heal.

Matthew 11:28 – “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Psalm 46:10 – “He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

Perhaps some see this as senseless; truthfully there was a time I would have thought so also. But I can attest truthfully, each time I have met God like this I have come away refreshed, strengthened and focused on what I need to do.

“We can be tired, weary and emotionally distraught, but after spending time alone with God, we find that He injects into our bodies energy, power and strength.” (Charles Stanley)  And someone else once said, “Spending time with God puts everything else in perspective.”

As I “Travel the Rock Road” the one thing for sure is I need all the help I can get. God is saying “Hey, I’m here for you, come to me.” Give it a shot is all I ask, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.

If anyone wants to do their own Bethel Journey and not sure how to get started, give me a shout. Remember, not everyone’s Bethel lies in the same place. But wherever yours may be, God’s already there waiting on you. Awesome!

See ya next time.

Well now that’s it over and I’m officially retired, I have to say how overwhelmed and humbled it’s left me from all the well wishers both friends and family. Had a nice sendoff my last day of work that I’ll remember for years to come. Then on Saturday I was given a party hosted by my wife and children; this bought together many people from work and my life here in Indiana that still has me smiling. My two oldest and dearest friends both traveled a good ways to be with me, and that truly meant a lot. But I suppose the biggest moment came when Jeremy, my oldest son grabbed a microphone, had me stand directly in front of him and proceeded like this. “Dad has always tried to make our family’s lives fun and special with doing unique things and traveling many places. Afterwards if we asked dad if he had a good time he’d say, well it was alright but I didn’t get my pony. All our lives we’ve heard about this pony that he wanted but never got. So dad, turn around look outdoors and say hello to your pony.” WooHoo!!!! There she, Sugar, a 40-year-old pony brought to the party by one of my co-workers with blue ribbons in her mane. Too Awesome!! Well it took a little to haul my keister up on the saddle but soon I was making a lap around the yard on this trusty steed; “Hi-Ho Sugar!!”

Okay now for the first time ever I will now confess to my family, no I never really wanted a pony–well maybe a little.  But when you really don’t have any wants, well it’s more fun to ask for a pony than it is a Porsche. I hope you won’t take this wrong, but I’m a man who feels he is deeply blessed with riches beyond my wildest dreams. As a child I never had a real place to call home; so my little ranch style abode may not be much to someone else, but to me it’s a castle.

I had a tremendous mother, but no other immediate family and that can be a little lonely. Now look at me, the greatest wife God could have brought along to make me whole, six kids counting in-law youngin’s, and six grandchildren with another on the way. God took a lonely boy and surrounded him with incredible people to love and make him whole. You throw in others that call me dad or grandpa and I have enough family to file for my own zip code.

You take world possessions and I may not have enough to fill a semi, but over the years I’ve come to see everything as exactly what I need, as what God has given me out of His love for me to enjoy.  So when someone asks what do you want or what would be more fulfilling to me, I really don’t have a want. So my answer “I want my Pony!”

G.K. Chesterton once made this statement; “You say grace before meals.  Alright.  But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink”

In other words if its there for you, it’s worthy of being thankful for.

And Beecher put it like this; “The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!”

But one of my favorite writers says it best;

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

When this “Traveler of the Rock Road” looks at all he has, how can he really yearn for something more. Besides now I’m complete, “I GOT MY PONY!!”

I’m leaving for a few days on what I refer to as a Bethel Trip. Will look forward to catching up with you father down the Rock Road.

See ya soon!

By the time I met old Ivan he was in his mid-60s but looked much older from his years working in the foundry. His hands were heavily calloused and his fingers went in different directions from the effects of arthritis. Still he showed up and did his job every day and was considered the best Muller Man in the plant. That’s someone who would prepare a combination of sand, clay and water to be made into molds that molten iron was poured into for the making of gray iron castings. The industry had testing equipment to ensure the molds were made properly, but Ivan liked the old process the best. Grabbing a handful of moist, hot, black sand he’d give it a good squeeze; by the feel and sight of what he held in his hand he could tell if he was making good or bad sand. Must have been something in that old man’s touch, because then we ran the lowest scrap rate due to mold damage in the history of the company.

I spent a week training with Ivan.  Whenever things were running fine (which was most of the time with him at the control), we’d have time for talk. Three tidbits he gave me have stuck all these years later all dealing with life. “So what brought you to the foundry?” He asked one day. “Truthfully it was the highest paying place to get into easy,” I responded.  “I’m not planning on staying here, this is just temporary. “Yeah me, too” he countered. Then with a smile, “That temporary was 45 years ago. Other than when I went off to war this is all I’ve known and I like it. It’s been good to me, kept me in paychecks, built my home, fed and clothed my family and even paid for my son’s college education. The way I see it, I might have done better somewhere else, but then I might have done a whole lot worse, main thing is I’m happy in my job.” (Tidbit #1)

“So what do want to do with your life if you don’t want to be here?” I usually answered that question with telling of my desire to play music, but nothing came.  “I don’t know,” I finally answered. “I would love to see the world, but I doubt if I’ll ever have the money to travel like I want.” “Can you read?” he questioned. “Yes, I can read,” I answered a little sarcastically. “Well, then can you afford to buy books or at least go to the library?” Yes was the answer to both questions; “What’s your point?” “Other than being in Europe during the war I haven’t seen a whole lot either. And when you have people shooting at you there’s not much chance of taking in the sights. But I love to read, and I’ve been all over the world from the books I’ve read and pictures in them. One of the big shots here couldn’t get over how I could tell him more about Rome than what he learned from being there for a week.  I plan to travel when I retire but the many places I still won’t make it to doesn’t matter, I’ve already been there.  God gave you a mind and an imagination, don’t let either go to waste.” (Tidbit #2)

The final gem came one evening when we got around to Ivan’s soon to be retirement. “So besides doing some traveling, you have any other plans when you retire?”  “Sure do,” he shot back. “I’m going to age slowly and live everyday to its fullest. I have a formula for that, wanna hear it?” “Oh absolutely,” I said thinking this ought to be good. He then asked, “You have a television?” “Yes, doesn’t everyone?” I answered with a chuckle. “Well, when you get home throw a rock through it.” What?!! Was he being serious; I didn’t have a chance to answer before he followed up with “Do you have a recliner or an easy chair?” About half afraid to answer I told him I did. “Drag it out in your backyard, soak it in gas and burn it!  Now you have nothing to dull your mind and make your backside grow large as you sit for hours doing nothing.  Then get busy living; that’s what we were made for anyway you know.” (Tidbit #3)

I heard it once said “Never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life”

Perhaps old Ivan was feeding me a line, but from what I learned from ones who knew him better than me he lived his life by this saying. It wasn’t to impress others or for bragging rights to draw attention to himself; I believe it was for the sole and the “soul” purpose of making his days more than just an existence but a achievement of a happy life. Awesome!

Well Ivan, this “Traveler of the Rock Road lived to a ripe, productive and happy old age. As I learned more about him I came to realize that we would meet up again some day because of faith in the one he knew as Lord. And when we do, I hope to let him know how much his tidbits of wisdom taught me, not only in my physical, but my spiritual life.

Tidbit #1 – Ecclesiastes 6:9 – “Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have. Just dreaming about nice things is meaningless—like chasing the wind.”

Tidbit #2 – 2 Timothy 2:15 – “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth”

Tidbit #3 – Matthew 19:26 – “With God there is no limit what you can do; there is no obstacle you can’t overcome. Through Him, all things are possible.

Thank you Ivan

As I now approach my own retirement and think back on the words of my friend I believe I’m going to make a card to carry in my wallet that goes something like this:

“I’m going to make the rest of my life, the best of my life”

Don’t know about you, but it seems like a good idea to me.

See ya next time.

Jimmie couldn’t believe his ears and what they were hearing. Perhaps he hadn’t totally woken from the nap he was taking when the phone rang. Was this a joke, one of his friends pranking him? Did the person on the other end of the line dial his number instead of the party he was trying to reach? No, it was no joke being played or a wrong number; and he was completely awake as he heard the voice on the phone. This was incredible!

Jimmie Nicol had made quite a name for himself in the London area as a drummer. He had done a lot of studio session work playing on other people’s LPs, and had performed with several up and coming bands touring with at least two. He had grown accustomed to the phone ringing with someone looking for a drummer for this project or that concert; but nothing could have prepared him for what he was now being asked to do. The caller was none other than George Martin producer of the biggest band not only in England but on the planet. His words made Jimmie go completely numb for a few minutes; “Jimmie, how would you like to travel and be the drummer for the Beatles?” It was the summer of 1964 and Ringo Starr had collapsed with tonsillitis and was hospitalized.

The band was preparing for a big tour and Martin persuaded the remaining Beatles to use a backup drummer until Ringo was well again. Just over a day later Jimmie was behind the drum set, wearing one of Ringo’s suits and playing his first concert in Copenhagen, Denmark as a Beatle. For nearly the next two weeks he would earn more money than he ever had in his life, have more girls want to touch him, and take in more notoriety and fame than he ever could have imagined beyond his wildest dreams. This was so awesome, up to that moment and except for the music scene in London, Jimmie was a complete unknown. Now he was playing to sold-out arenas, signing autographs, doing interviews and running for his life from a multitude dreamy eyed, love struck teenage girls. Life couldn’t get any better for a young man with hopes and dreams of musical stardom; that is until 13 days into the concert tour. The band’s manager Brian Epstein informed Jimmie that Ringo had recovered and would be rejoining the band the next day.

After 8 shows Jimmie found himself alone, early morning at the Melbourne, Australia Airport waiting for a flight to take him back to London. He wasn’t able to tell the other three Beatles goodbye because of the early hour. Looking around his surroundings, hardly another person was present, and the ones who were paid little attention to the young man sitting all alone, the feelings of obscurity flooded him.  Returning to London he tried to use his 15 minutes of fame to build a music career with his own band, unfortunately no one gave notice to a short time Beatle. There were a couple of other fleeting moments where he sat in with the likes of the Dave Clark 5, but nothing permanent or even close to what he experienced as a Beatle. By the late 60s Nicol was totally out of the music industry saying in several interviews “Standing in for Ringo was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

I once heard a quote that went like this; “When you’re dreaming with a broken heart the waking up is the hardest part.”

In a sense I relate very well to Jimmie Nicol as I’m sure many others do also. Not to the same level of course; this man was given opportunity to play with the greatest Rock band in history, and then it was over. But so many of us like Jimmie have experienced disappointment from what we thought our life was going to be to the reality of where we end up instead. Our visions of grandeur and honor are harshly replaced with the cold reality of just a simple ordinary life.

But one day my question became “So what’s wrong with that?!!” Yes like Jimmie Nicol, I had my hopes and dreams. Just because they didn’t pan out, does that really make me a loser? Is it so wrong to just have a normal life without the fanfare? I’ve come to recognize that a man made dream can often become a nightmare anyway. Let’s say I accomplished what I thought should be my goal in life; would I have what I have now? The wife of 42 years that I adore, the children and grandchildren who bless me so fully, the little house that we built and made a home, the trade I found myself in all these years, or even the opportunity to interact with you good folks? I think it’s a safe bet I wouldn’t have any of it and that, dear friends and family, I’ve learned is more important than fame and fortune. Of course I’ve had a great teacher that has taught me things like this;

Proverbs 3:5 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”

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

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

When I weigh all that; I’d say I’ve gained more than I lost, wouldn’t you?

As for our “Traveler of the Rock Road,” well I don’t know; but I always hope that others made the same discovery I did. I do know that Jimmy seemed to vanish for nearly 4 decades and it was even believed he passed away. But to the contrary he’s done quite well in the home renovation business and has a son that is an award winning sound engineer. He may have a legacy of being what the media has called the “Forgotten Beatle,” but still sounds like a winner to me!

See ya next time.

As most already know I’ll be retiring soon from my job. A friend told me I would be missed because of my positive attitude. Flattered, I thanked him, but also owned up that it hadn’t always been that way.  It was some years before I came to see my job, the place I worked and especially the other people who worked there as a blessing. He then proceeded to tell the story of his dad and his dad’s pal.

They both worked for the city where my friend lived as child. Their jobs consisted of street cleaning and repair, picking up trash, keeping the local parks neat, setting up and tearing down for special events held in the town, and giving new coats of paint to everything that needed spruced up in the community. His dad was well thought of and people would often stop and talk for a moment when they saw him. “They liked my dad because he always had a pleasant word for everyone no matter what. We didn’t have a lot of money, but folks were always giving him things like lawn furniture and items for the house that dad would take and fix up like new.  Every summer he would take our family on a nice vacation to places like the ocean, Niagara Falls, and even the Grand Canyon. He would pick up odd jobs through the year or work an extra shift on the garbage truck, anything to bring in money so we’d have a nice trip.”

His dad’s friend, on the other hand, was always in a bad mood. He’d yell at people for making his job harder so most would avoid him. His dad would try to get him to be nicer to folks but he would answer, “Why should I? All they do is make my life hell around here!”  He told me how his father would come home as soon as he wasn’t working, but his pal would head straight to the bar. “Said he had to ‘throw back a few’ before he got home or his wife and kids would drive him crazy, but I knew his kids.  They were terrified of him when he was home because of his terrible temper, even worse after he had been drinking.  They were like us and didn’t have much so dad would offer to share some of his side jobs with him, but he’d have no part of that.  What’s all that extra going to do for you when you work yourself into an early grave; no thanks!” He’d say. I began to get a mental picture of two totally different individuals, one that saw nothing good, and the other who was thankful for everything.

“Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.” –   William Arthur Ward

“The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.” –  H. U. Westermayer

I told my friend, “I’d considered it an honor to meet your dad someday.” But the look in his eye and the lowering of the head told me that wasn’t to be. “Dad was so proud when I went off the college. During my junior year mom called to say they believed he had a massive heart attack during the night and never woke up.” He went on to describe how hundreds turned out for the viewing telling the family how much they liked dad and how he going to be missed dearly. Even his disillusioned friend made an appearance. “Well I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, “but I always knew your old man would someday work himself into grave. Pity you weren’t even here to tell him goodbye.” “Whoa!” I said, “It must have taken a lot of self control on your part not to put a knot on his head.” My friend gently smiled and answered, “No, no need to; that just showed how much he didn’t know about dad.  My father was very strong in his faith believing one day he would be with Jesus, and he taught that to us kids. I may not have been here to say goodbye, but I know when I get to heaven he’ll be there waiting on me. Knowing that, I have peace that dad’s where he’d want to be.”  Then with a chuckle, “Probably wondering around heaven right now hunting for something to fix or paint!”

1 Thessalonians 5:18 – “In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Psalm 100:4 – “Enter His gates with thanksgiving And His courts with praise Give thanks to Him, bless His name.”

Here was a Traveler of the Rock Road that knew the importance of being thankful in all situations, for he saw everything as a gift from God. I wonder how much the “gripe meter” would be lowered if we all took that attitude; just a thought.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Colossians 3:17

Works for me!
See ya next time

Ask any musician and they’ll tell you their most memorable and scariest moment is the first time they played in front of a live audience. Mine came when I was 13 years old at a “Battle of the Bands” back in my hometown. This is where a number of local rock bands come together, each playing a set of music and the audience votes or a group of judges decides who the best group is. The location was Ole Zims, a barn that had been renovated into a large dance hall perfect for functions like this. My band was a group of neighborhood kids that could play guitars and since I was a drummer, we decided to take a shot at the competition; who knows we may even win.

Besides how we sounded, I really wanted to look good–Rock n Roll Hero personified. I talked my mom into buying me these jeans with large bell bottoms, something quite fashionable then. I also got a pair of black boots with large buckles and a long sleeve shirt with wild, bright colored designs all over it. On the evening of the battle, I donned all my new threads and found them a little bulky and warm. But that was alright, the main thing was I looked good!

Three bands played before we did, which left us all a little shell-shocked; we had no idea of the talent we were going up against. We had just organized the month before and all these groups had noticeably been together for much longer. There was no turning back now. The last band before us was playing their final song. The crowd was already beginning to gather in front of where we were set up. Taking a seat behind my drum set, I looked up and there was a sea of faces staring my way.  All the moisture in my mouth and throat instantly evaporated. The singer yelled out the count “1 2 3 4!” We broke into song and I immediately dropped one of my drumsticks. Not smart enough to put any extras in reach, I had to jump up from my seat to retrieve it only to find one the large leg openings of my bell bottoms was caught in the bass drum pedal. Now I knew how an animal felt when it became snared in a trap! Luckily one of the guitar players retrieved the stick and handed it back to me, but I was still fighting the bass pedal trying to lift my leg as high as possible until finally freeing myself. We finished the first of song and I could see people laughing and looking at me like I was some kind of idiot; and that moment I would have had to agree with them. But now I had other problems, the heavy long sleeve shirt was burning me up and making me feel like I would throw up at any minute. I didn’t, but with all the mishaps my drumming was terrible and at the end of our set there was no one watching us, they had all moved on early for the next band. The other band members were so disgusted, they wouldn’t even talk to me. Finally one said, “We play another round so before it’s our turn again, whatever problem you’re having, fix it!”

I was embarrassed, but I was also angry for letting the others down. First thing was to strip down to my t-shirt and toss that heavy shirt in the corner. Kicking off the boots and finding some duct tape to wrap around the bottom of my pants now freed my legs up for the pedals. This time when I sat down to play I had four extra sticks nearby. There was a determination in my soul; I was ready now, let’s do it!

We began the 2^nd set and this time our sound was solid and I played my heart out, even getting applause from the audience a couple of times. At the end I, along with the rest of the band, felt much better with our performance even though we still finished dead last.

Okay I’d say there are a couple of easy lessons here, but let me give you my spin.  Wanting to do something special is fine, but the important part is preparing so that you’re ready for the task. Old Ben Franklin put it well when he said, “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” The desire to succeed is the smallest part; the bigger portions are training, learning, and knowing what you’re doing.  In the Christian life the rules are the same. I can count all the people I know that got excited about Christ, but fell away because they did not prepare by studying, learning from older believers and one of the most important parts, praying.

Ephesians 6:13 – “Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.”

The other obvious lesson is getting all dressed up like some big city pimp sure didn’t do a thing to help my drumming, if anything it became a major deterrent to any skills I did have. I was very young back then and I suppose my thinking was by looking like something I wasn’t, maybe it wouldn’t matter how well I could play.  A young man named Alex Gaskarth with wisdom beyond his years put it like this,  “Be real, because a mask only fools people on the outside. Pretending to be someone you’re not takes a toll on the real you, and the real you is more important than anyone else.”

Occasionally, I like looking at the Message, it has a neat way of defining scripture like this one:  1 Peter 5:6-7 – “So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.”

As we “Travel the Rock Road,” each of us learns who we really are and what gifts we have; and in the leaning process there are no short cuts. When we commit our ways and gifts to the Lord, He’s faithful to prepare and guide us in the right direction.  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (Prov. 3:5-6).

Follow this truth and you’ll end up a winner.  But if bell bottoms ever come back and you’re a drummer, don’t! Trust me you won’t dig it!!

See ya next time.

I couldn’t have been more that 9 or 10 but I still remember the feelings that ran though my mind and even body like a high powered shot of exhilaration; I couldn’t stop smiling. It was old with some nicks and scratches, but I didn’t care; to me it was the most beautiful thing I had ever held–my very first guitar. It was a rental from the music store where I would be taking lessons and with each session mom would pay a few dollars toward it being mine. Not having a car, we had to walk home me carrying my new melody maker as securely as possible to make sure nothing would happen; but I wanted everybody to see me with it. A kinda “Wow, he must be a guitar player, that’s awesome” feeling as we made our way down the street. Arriving home I ran up stairs to practice and then find just the perfect place to display it in my room. I must have stayed awake half the night just staring at it propped up in the corner with me still smiling as if I was with my best friend. Life was awesome!

The lessons I found were harder than I thought they would be and there was a lot of struggle to make my fingers on my left hand press the right strings while my right hand tried to maneuver the right picking pattern. I wasn’t learning very fast, but I just knew sooner or later music would burst forth and I’d be on my way to stardom. That’s how I felt at least until after about the 6^th lesson. After we finished he had me leave my guitar in the practice room and led mom and I to his office to talk privately. “It’s best that I’m totally truthful with you,” he started, “But Johnny doesn’t have any musical ability, and it would be a waste of my time and your money to continue on. I won’t charge you for tonight’s lesson and we’ll just call it even on the guitar rental.” We barely made it home when the floodgates on my eyes burst forth and I must have sobbed for an hour. That night I lay awake once more but this time looking into an empty corner where my guitar had been.

This was just one more disappointment in life.  I struggled in school not understanding because of a reading disability. While the other kids in the neighborhood would be riding bikes, I’d just watch because I couldn’t do it. If I went the community pool, I’d have to stay in the shallow end because I couldn’t swim. So it was the same old story with me, too dumb to do anything is how I felt so I might as well not try.

But I had mom who knew all about that; she had a severe hearing loss which made learning nearly impossible when she was young and often she was treated in a lesser manner than others. She wasn’t about to let her son think he was not as good as others. “Your teacher was wrong, Johnny,” she told me when we got home. “He just didn’t find the right way to teach you so he gave up, but I’m not giving up. I know you have musical ability and you will play someday.”

Time went by and I learned sometimes when you take things down to the lowest common denominator changes happen. In school I was made fun of because I couldn’t read, but after a full year sitting at a kitchen table with a wonderful lady who became my tutor, the mystery of letters on paper came forth for me, to where they were now words, stories, understanding. In later life I finished high school and am now a college graduate with honors.

My best friend took me to a vacant lot, got me up on the bike and worked with me an entire day until I could ride the darn thing; the next year I became proficient on a unicycle. I’d go to public pool and watch how people used their arms and legs to move or to stay in one place treading water. After practicing a little more in the shallow end I dove into the deep end one day and swam with all I had to other side, and then back! These years later I have competed in triathlons, where I had to swim in open water then bike and run. Now I know that’s a little blowing of my own horn which I really don’t like doing; but I’m saying to you if I can achieve these heights, just think about what you can do!

Once again I think my man C.S. Lewis says it best, “Failures are finger posts on the road to achievement.”

For some of us life just doesn’t come easy, there are many disappointments as we “Travel the Rock Road,” some big enough to want to make a person just give up. But you see I just don’t believe God made us that way, to be quitters when things get tough. Truthfully, during the times I have put my trust in my Lord and taken that common denominator down to just me and Him, achievement in this life becomes much closer than it was. That’s not to say I still don’t fail occasionally, it just means there’s something better on the horizon.

Here’s another quote I like: “Failure is not the opposite of success, it’s part of success. For a failure is not a loss. It’s a gain. You learn. You change. You grow.”

God’s word has its own twist on it that goes like this, Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust the Lord with all your heart, and don’t depend on your own understanding. Remember the Lord in all you do, and He will give you success.”

There will be times we will try and we will fail. The question then becomes what do we do with failure; do we let it control us, or do we take control, overcome and succeed? In this man’s thinking as long as we have God on our side we’re already winners!

A couple of years after the setback with the guitar, I took up drums and was blessed with a teacher that wouldn’t give up on me, and I got fairly good if I do say so myself. But still there was this nagging in my soul of something missing, something incomplete. I still had the desire to play guitar even though I could still hear the words that it was a waste of time. Aren’t you glad that God doesn’t see anything we commit to Him as a waste of time?

That rack of guitars? Yeah, they’re mine. Oh yeah, I play them all.
See ya next time!

When I was about 14 I was lucky enough to catch the fancy of a little cutie I met during our 8^th grade year of school. I walked her home several times after school and one day she invited me into her house. After a short greeting and “mother interrogation” we headed to the family room to talk and do a little hand holding. That is at least, until I heard this irritating little kid of a voice come cutting through the air. “Aww, I’m telling mom, I’m telling mom!” Enter the little brother, or his other title, “Bratzilla!” This 9-year-old pint size human siren wearing a baseball cap that I was sure was there to hide his horns, came screeching into the room announcing his intentions of letting the mother know about our “vile exploits”. “Jimmy, you better not!” my girlfriend shouted as she got up to chase him only to have him flee from the room leaving behind the echoes of his sinister laugh. She sat back down on the couch and broke into tears. “He’s always causing me trouble, telling things to get mom and dad upset. He makes me so angry!” she blurted through her tears, which in turn made me mad also. The next time the little escapee from the house of horrors stuck his head in the room proudly wearing his evil smile I blurted out, “Kid if you don’t get out of here I’m going to rip your head off!” “I’m telling mom! I’m telling mom!” rang out down the hallway as he ran off in search of the maternal enforcer. “You better leave, things might get bad if you don’t,” the girl told me. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” And she escorted me out through the garage. As I headed down the sidewalk toward home my mind was set on one subject, the demise of “Jimmy the Jackal!” “Mess up an opportunity for me to get my first kiss, will you?” I thought. “Your hind is mine!”

It was a few days later on a Saturday I decided to drop by. My girlfriend met me at the front door. “I can’t let you come in because my parents are gone, but we can sit in the backyard.” “Awesome,” and I headed around the house. It wasn’t long while we were sitting together in a swing that I made my move. Our lips had just met when I heard it, that screeching voice from the depths of you know where. “I’m telling mom! I’m telling mom!” The little devil didn’t have a chance to run I was up so quickly and had him in my grasp. Slamming him against the house he screamed out all the louder, but I didn’t care; revenge would be mine! With one hand clinching his shirt and the other around his neck I had just begun to speak when out of nowhere a hurricane landed on me.

“If you ever st–k” was all the further I got. The kicks, the punches, the hair pulling came in such rapid succession I thought for a second a gang of people was beating on me. But it was no gang, just one fire breathing, boiling mad, anger machine set to attack and destroy–his sister! “Leave him alone! Don’t you ever touch him again! Get out of here!” I hate you!” The confusion now going on in my head was making it spin, but I wasn’t about to stick around any longer to ask questions. She said go and as I use to put it, I slapped it in B for Boogie and was out of there. I looked back only once to see that she was now cuddling her little brother as I made my escape. Comforting the little brat that made her life miserable? Sheesh!

Now I suppose I could take this story a number of different directions as to some learning experience God wanted for me. But a good part of the reason I wrote this is, well I found it kind of funny (Now!) as my memory replayed that whole traumatic episode in my mind, and I started to chuckle. Hoping you did too when you read it. Embarrassing and sometimes confusing moments in life are there, I believe, to teach us something, to bring something worthwhile to our existence later, even if it’s just a smile or a laugh.

If I was to attribute anything to pass on, I suppose it would be something like this.

Perhaps the bratty brother had a good whooping coming for how he treated his older sister, but the fact remained that was her little brother and she still loved him and wasn’t about to let anything happen. It wasn’t about how he felt, it was about how she did; that was with a love that wouldn’t stop. Perhaps her brother learned that after that day.

In talking about God’s love and protection, John Owens puts it this way, “Did you never run for shelter in a storm, and find fruit which you expected not? Did you never go to God for safeguard, driven by outward storms, and there find unexpected fruit?”

I have a feeling little brother knew of his sister’s love and protection; just as we who call ourselves believers should know our Heavenly Father is there  for us to run to for protection, love.

Psalm 91:1, 2 – “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

By mutual agreement this “Traveler of the Rock Road” never went back over to the girl’s house. But a friend told me she invited him over sometime and like me was sure of getting his first kiss. With a smile I told him, “Well, if you do and her little brother causes you any guff, just give him a swift kick.”

I might tell you that story some day, but right now I think he’s still looking for me!
See ya next time.