Traveling the Rock Road

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.

He was well past his prime when I first met Dick, not brought on by age, but due to a debilitating heart condition that had robbed him of the ability to lead the active life he once did. That’s not to say he couldn’t do anything, even with a cane securely held in one hand Dick busied himself with chores around the house, raising flowers and yard work, helping his beloved Phyllis, or Phyl as many called her who had health issues herself, going to visit and check on others; plus squeezing in trips to the Y several times a week for some lap swims. Yeah one might say Richard was down, but he certainly wasn’t out!

This man became a part of our lives ‘86 when my wife Cathy reunited with Phyl her biological mother, who Dick was married to. On our numerous trips to Ohio to visit, Phyl and Cathy would chat for hours, but Dick would sit content just listening. As I drew conversations out of this quiet individual I came to learn a good deal about him. He had been a business owner where he sold tropical fish, and like me he loved to work with his hands. Besides Phyl, who had physical limitations, he was active in caring for his mother until she passed away. His love for her was evident not only by his actions but how often he spoke of her, and a love that only a mother and son could share.

Married twice Dick laid claim to 10 children total; six from his first marriage (2 passed away) three stepchildren when he was married Phyl, and then along came my Lady who he treated and loved as if she was always one of his. It was no wonder she easily learned to refer to him, as Dad.

Now by this point if you said, “Well Dick sounds nice and all, but really he and his story is no different than a lot of other men,” you’d be right. I’ve met a lot of men similar to Dick and he certainly wouldn’t stand out in the crowd as anything special.

But you see God has taught me to look at individuals in a new light, the way He sees them. In doing that I’ve met some extraordinary people like Dick that otherwise I might not have noticed. I’ve redefined how I classify someone as a hero, and what actually earned them that title. These are the “Travelers of the Rock Road” that have touched my being and taught me much more than they’ll ever know.

Anyway, Dick could be content to sit back and listen as others talked, he was comfortable with that. Ask him how he was and you’d get a slight overview of his health, but not much more. Then ask him how his mother was and he would talk of what they did recently, what moment they shared, and how he was concerned for her. If he got on the subject of siblings you would hear a man speak of them not just as brothers and sisters, but as friends, best friends. Ask him about his kids and he would tell of accomplishments that they had and how proud of them he was. But my favorite moment was watching his face when we talked on the subject of grandchildren. The head would go back a little and a smile would come to his face, as if he was seeing them at that moment. It was there he drew much life, happiness and love from each of them.

But without a doubt his favorite subject, his strongest love and concern was for the person whose voice was generally filling the room when we were together, his beloved Phyllis. She could get loud, have a strong temper, joke with him and referred to him as ‘Romig’ (his last name) and there was nothing that could make him love her any less.

This last year the family suddenly suffered the loss of their beloved Phyl, with this loss I believe a part of Dick faded also. He moved out of the house they shared for 34 years and into a healthcare facility near loved ones, but illness was quickly taking him down and in a few short months he followed his Lady into Heaven. As I related his story to a fellow writer I could see him pondering every word I told him. Then he started; “Your Dick sounds like a man who put others before himself even through his infirmity. His heart was so focused on the love he had to give to Phyl and others, it acted as a combatant toward any and all ills he possessed. When he no longer had his love to watch over, the heart was no longer strong enough to fight for life, or even want to.”

I once heard a quote that said, “If you really want to receive joy and happiness, then serve others with all your heart. Lift their burden, and your own burden will be lighter.” Perhaps my friend was on to something.

On the day of Dick’s funeral, a group of people came together to celebrate his life and how that life had touched theirs in a positive way. At the church, I was privileged to be part of a rather large procession that entered and counted themselves children of Dick Romig. And my thoughts were, ‘Maybe the world wouldn’t recognize a simple man who had his share of hardships for any great achievements, but today the proof of how far reaching his influence over others was evident.’ He gave of himself all that he had to offer, much more than he probably realized, just like any “Hero of the Rock Road.”

“Hardship often prepares an ordinary person for an extraordinary destiny.” C.S. Lewis

On that day we gathered together as family, I heard someone say, “When he was close to the end he probably heard Phyl yelling to him, ‘Hey Romig, get up here!’”

Perhaps, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he heard a quieter voice calling, “Your work is done Dick, time to come home.”

To finish with words of someone much closer to him than myself, “Love you Pop!”

See ya next time.

40 years ago that I was still pursuing the dream of being a musician, whether it was rock n roll, country or whatever made no difference. I only knew my 15 minutes of fame came too quickly and was gone even faster and I wanted another shot only this time permanent and not a fleeting moment. I also knew that if I had any chance whatsoever of realizing my dream it wouldn’t be done in small-town Ohio. I also knew my talents were going to have to improve greatly if I had any chance at all. So that is how I moved to small-town Indiana, to study under an incredible musician, and then move on to live permanently in L.A., or perhaps Nashville; anyplace where music was the prominent industry.

Before my Lady and I made the moved we needed extra money for all the expenses that would be incurred. And the fastest place to make the kind of money I would need was at the local foundry back in Fremont. I went there not knowing what was in store and brother, did I ever get an education. The work was hard, fast-paced, hot and dirty and I thought after the first day I’d never make it. As a matter of fact the three guys I hired in with all quit within the first week. But I continued on that summer and when it was over I made myself a vow I’d never step foot in a foundry again!!! BTW, how many of you know what my regular occupation is? Okay we’ll get to that in a minute.

For the ones of you who know me, or that have read earlier issues of “Traveling the Rock Road” you already know that my dreams of stardom never materialized, so I really don’t want to get into that subject matter. Rather I’d like to discuss what happened instead. You see, some would conclude my plans and even my life was a failure since I did not reach my goal. In actuality I consider where I am a complete success; not of my plan, but of God’s.

During those early days of plotting out my life direction I was a Christ follower, but that didn’t necessarily mean I always followed His will. Matter of fact I can’t remember even one time I prayed to the Lord about my want and desire to be a musician. And I don’t believe He hindered my progress in pursuing my goal. I think it’s more like Him saying; “So you think you got a plan and you don’t need me to be a part of it, huh? Hey more power to you; but when you’re ready to talk about your future, I’ll be right here for you.”

And so the struggle went, and over the last 40 years there have been times I’ve felt like Moses, thinking I was doing the right thing only to find myself in a proverbial desert at first hiding out, but then later learning God’s will, God’s “better plan” for my life.

Here are a couple of quotes that say it well;

“God’s plan is always the best. Sometimes the process is painful and hard. But don’t forget that when God is silent, He’s doing something for you.”

And

“As I look back on my life, I realize that every time I thought I was being rejected from something good, I was actually being re-directed to something better.”

First let me say it “was” God’s will that I leave my hometown, for I needed to leave the old behind. It “was” God’s will for me to study music, not for my use but for His.

It “was” God’s will that I live in a desert-like attitude for awhile; until I could finally see this is where I was meant to be all along and it’s a beautiful place to be!

“Hey Moses, me and you babe!” Okay, and probably a number of you that are reading this can identify with this also.

Many of us know this passage but let’s say it anyway:  “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

This portion of “Traveling the Rock Road” is not the way I planned, but it’s the way God did, and when it’s all said and done that’s okay with me.

In less than 3 months this 40 year trek takes a turn when I retire from my “tent making” profession as I call it, to pursue, well whatever and wherever God wants me.

As the words of a song one of my best friends wrote, and as Moses probably said in his own way, “Lead on Exodus Road!”

BTW the way, that vow I made in small-town Ohio never to step foot in a foundry again? Well guess where I’m retiring from in small-town Indiana?!!  And I thank my Lord for every minute I’ve spent there, and every person He put me in contact with.  What an incredible journey, and what in incredible plan God had for me.  As I begin whatever He has for me next, I am excited with anticipation to see where He leads.

So once again, “Lead on Exodus Road!”

See you next time.

I thought Kevin was like me, growing up without a father. I was surprised when I found out he had one since he never spoke of one and I never met him. As time went on I learned his dad worked a job that took him away from home for long periods of time, and when he was there no one was allowed over because he needed peace and quiet when he came in off the road. As the years went on, the divide between the two became even broader. He once told me he’d get excited when dad was finally going to be home; but it wouldn’t last long because he’d be so tired from the road all he would do is sleep or watch television. By the time he was a teenager, Kevin didn’t make the effort to home when his dad was there, said he didn’t see any real reason to. You see Kevin and his father weren’t bad people; it just seemed (at least to Kevin) that his dad was just too busy to have a relationship, and since they didn’t have anything in common there was no reason to ever work toward one. No hard feelings, just an acceptance of the facts the way Kevin saw them. This loose relationship would stay that way for nearly 30 years.

Kevin grew, married and had his own family. Unfortunately the marriage didn’t last and he found himself a middle-aged man living alone in a small apartment. That is until he received a phone call one day that totally surprised him; it was his dad. His mother had passed away a few years earlier and his father retired from being a long haul trucker. But the years on the road had caused severe damage to his spine that made it difficult for him to walk even from room to room in his house. I’m calling, son, to see if you’d like to come live here with me. The house is going to be yours someday anyway and I could use a little help if you wouldn’t mind.” His dad’s request caught him so off guard he didn’t know what to say. “How to I talk to a dad in my 40s that I couldn’t talk to as a kid,” he thought.

But something told him he couldn’t say no, so a week later he was packed up and back to the home he knew as a child. There was much work to be done around the place since his dad couldn’t care for it the way that was needed. Besides it would give him something to do since the two of them probably wouldn’t be spending any real time together.

The first couple of weeks Kevin would go out in the evening to visit old friends and haunts from his younger days. Every night when he got home he’d see his dad in the front room watching television. A few quick words and he’d walk past and head to his room. Then one evening he noticed something, as soon as he would get in, his dad would turn off the TV and go to his room. The next evening he asked him if was waiting up for him. “Well sure,” he responded. “You may be grown up, but I just feel better knowing you got in safe. Besides I was hoping one of these evenings when you got home we could talk.”
Talk? Now that took Kevin by surprise. They’d never talked when he was young, what would they have to talk about now. “Okay let’s talk,” Kevin started. “Do you know how much mom and I needed you around here, but you never were?” His dad lowered his head and quietly said “Yeah, I know. When I got home from the war I got the job trucking and really liked it. When I met your mother I thought about quitting, but I was afraid I wouldn’t find anything else I was good at. Your mother encouraged me to keep driving because she knew I loved it. But that’s not to say I didn’t love her or you any less.

Kevin sat motionless for several minutes taking in what his dad had just told him. “He loved me!” he thought. Those words had never been said before that moment. And then Kevin realized something, it wasn’t because his father didn’t care or love him that they weren’t close when he was little; it was because he just never knew how to say or even show it to him like most do. But in that short moment he came to realize it was always there.

“To love someone means to put them ahead of ourselves, just as Christ did for each of us.” J. David Miller

Kevin’s dad knew he wasn’t able to be there and give warmth and security; he left that to his wife who was more suited. His job as he saw it was to provide all that would be needed to have a life and home, by that he showed how much he loved his family.

Kevin once told me that all he ever wanted was to have a dad that cared for him; and because of his stubborn ways he almost missed knowing he had one. Awesome!
For the next several months they talked and carried on like a couple of long lost friends. You’d see them out to dinner or taking in a ball game. But Kevin’s best moments with his dad were when they just sat and talked. “I found this week the old man fought at Guadalcanal during WW2” he told me one day. “Showed me where took a bullet to the leg and shoulder. He’s a tough old bird my dad!”  I wasn’t there when the end came for Kevin’s dad, but he did know the Lord, so another “Traveler of the Rock Road” made it home.

Sometime after, Kevin was going through a large satchel his dad always carried with him on the road. In it were pictures of Kevin, from the time he was born and all through his life. With a smile he would say, “Those pictures told me I was always with my dad after all.

“A father is neither an anchor to hold us back, nor a sail to take us there, but a guiding light whose love shows us the way.”

Written for a friend

See ya next time.

Back around 1983, I had returned to my adopted hometown of Fremont, Ohio for the annual white bass run. This occurs generally in May when white bass will leave Lake Erie and travel up the Sandusky River to spawn. The fish are so plentiful during the run, anglers from all over converge on Fremont to fill their buckets and stringers with these feisty but tasty bass. Since money was tight for me and Cathy, my purpose was to catch enough that we’d fill the freezer with enough filets to have fish once or twice a week until the next season.

On this occasion I was fishing with my lifelong buddy Lynn and he and brought his youngest son, at that time, Chad who was about 8 and I had my son Jeremy, age 2 with me.

The fishing was slow that day and I was allowing Jeremy to play on the rocks nearby, that is until I caught sight of his new “friend.” Hearing some noise I turned to watch Jer as he was trying to pick something up, but then at the last second would quickly pull his hand away, then try again. Walking over to investigate, my heart nearly stopped when I saw what he was trying to grab. Now most folks from that area will tell you black snakes are harmless; but when you see one some 4 feet long that your child thinks is a plaything, it’ll send you into a panic right quick. Snatching my son up in one arm I moved him back and the snake made a quick retreat across the rocks.

A while later we gave up on fishing for the day so grabbing up our gear we headed up from the river. The only problem was we were in a primitive area that meant we had a good walk over rocks and around trees as we headed back to the car. Several places the rocks were separated enough that we had to stretch across to get from one stone to the next. We came to one point where it was easily a 3 foot span across and the river was 4 feet below. Lynn crossed first and then I handed Jeremy to him before I stepped over with pole in hand. Turning back to Chad who was waiting I reached out my free hand and was about to say “Take hold and step over.” Only Chad had his own ideas before I could speak and with a mighty leap he lunged toward me. There wasn’t even a split second to think, dropping my pole I was able to catch him barely keeping both of us landing in the river or falling on the rocks. Kids! Sheesh!!!

Over the years I’ve occasionally thought about that day and how neither boy showed fear or thought about the possible danger they might have been in. Then one day I realized, that’s the way God wants us to be in trusting Him.

“Let you faith be bigger than your fears.” I don’t know who said this quote but I have to wonder if it came to them while watching a child’s approach to some kind of difficulty without fear or hesitation.

God’s way of saying the same thing is like this, “For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” 2 Timothy 1:7

Isaiah 41:10 “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you! Don’t be frightened, for I am your God! I strengthen you–yes, I help you–yes, I uphold you with my saving right hand!”

Deuteronomy 31:8 “The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”

Psalm 23:3-4 “He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name. Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.”

Guess this is why Jesus said we need to be like little children, totally trusting in Him.

I won’t lie to you and say it’s been easy to put all my trust in my Lord. Even when I place all my trust in Him and see amazing results I still return to fear and doubts more times than I care to count. The good thing is even when I fall short I know the love of my God doesn’t.

To quote another passage but using Miller’s Free Translation God says, “I made all that you see out of nothing. Trust me I can take care of you.”

For this “Traveler of the Rock Road” I will continue to move forward, and periodically step back. It’s a part of who we are. But God loving us and waiting patiently for us to trust the way a child does; well, it’s the whole of who He is. Awesome!
See ya next time.

Two things could be said for old Sammy; the man could play guitar like he was born with one in his hand and if there wasn’t a party wherever he showed up, there would be 5 minutes after he arrived. Yes everyone loved Sammy because he was a lot a fun to be around, humorous and never knew what a dull moment looked like. As a musician he probably ranks as one of the top guitar players I ever worked with. He not only brought incredible talent to the stage, he also was a high energy performer whose persona was electric to the audience as well as fellow band members. I didn’t work with Sammy long but during the time I did I really liked him, even though he’d kid me often about being a “Christian.”

I can’t say he had a disdain toward Christians, but he always had a joke about them when I was around. Ones like “Hey Miller, I heard when Jesus stays at a hotel he gives 3 nails to the clerk and says, ‘Can you put me up for the night?’” I would just smile and say nothing because I knew later he’d come and say “Now I was kidding with you, don’t take me serious. I think it’s great you believe the way you do.” And I truly believed he meant it, but he was also quick to let you know it was okay for you, but it wasn’t for him.

Sammy’s path and mine didn’t cross long, another band picked him up and within months they were opening for a well known country music act. I wasn’t surprised and figured Sammy was on his way to the top; he was just too talented and too likable not to make it, nothing could stop him was my thought. But we just don’t know what tomorrow brings, do we?

A couple of years passed and I ran into another fellow musician who also happened to be a Christian. “Have you heard about Sammy?” He questioned. “No, why, is something up?” “He’s in the latter stages of liver cancer.” The words were like a spear to the heart. No, not Sammy, he was too full of life to have this happen I thought. But something even more concerned me, and my friend read it on my face. “John I spent over an hour with Sammy letting him know how much God loved him and assuring him from the word that Christ was ready to accept him so that he could be with him in heaven.” “And he made a decision?” I questioned. Sadly he shook his head and said, “All Sammy said over and over was he’s done too many bad things and it’s too late now anyway.” If the first words about the cancer wounded me, these were tearing me apart. Sammy had heard it all before and believed according to one telling me about his condition. Still he could not believe that God would want him after the way he lived his life. That friends and family is what I call the greatest lie in the universe. God’s love for us is so strong He will do all there is to lead, pull or drag someone into heaven.

Hey, don’t take my word, take His: “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:9)

“For I am certain that nothing can separate us from his love: neither death nor life, neither angels nor other heavenly rulers or powers, neither the present nor the future, neither the world above nor the world below—there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” (John 14:1-3)

Once again from my man C.S. Lewis: “God became man to turn creatures into sons; not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.”

Okay, I know I’ve preached more than I’ve told a story today. But you see, just like Sammy, each and every one of you “Travelers of the Rock Road” is important to me, as you are to God. So important that the Lord placed it on my heart to start the New Year with this thought–this truth about His love. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to turn to Him. No matter who you are, what you’ve done, what you might think, He won’t turn you away. That’s the love of a Father, through Christ. “As a father is kind to his children, so the Lord is kind to those who honor him” (Psalm 103:13GNT)

I never heard anymore on Sammy, but I do know our mutual friend was heading back to Nashville to give it another go, and another if he had to. The way he sees it (his words, not mine), if Sammy’s good enough for God, he’s good enough for him. Don’t you just love that attitude?!!!

Have a wonderful and blessed 2016, Friends and Family. See ya next time.

I wasn’t going to write this week, but changed my mind because I wanted to share just a couple of thoughts with you, so bare with me for just a few moments. Thanks.

We finished Christmas and the last of our kids have now left leaving Cathy and I back to our empty nest lifestyle. But when the house goes quiet again I like to take time to reflect on all that transpired in the last few days. For the last week we busied ourselves with last minute shopping, meal preparations, candle making and distribution (A little thing I enjoy doing to help put me in the sprit) then of course there’s the reading of the birth of Jesus from Luke 2 and finally the opening of gifts. I love sitting back and watching the grandkids faces as they unwrap their newest treasures. From that point it’s more eating, pleasurable interaction with family and of course some time spent with guitars and singing. (It’s a Miller thing) And I smile.

Now that it’s quiet again my mind enjoys going into replay as I drive around looking at Christmas lights and listening to carols on the radio knowing that all will be gone in just a few more days; until next season. And I smile.

I’ll reminisce about my childhood and our makeshift family of mom, me, a great aunt and great uncle and two widowed ladies who lived on each side of our large home and how we gathered a tree that stood every bit 7 feet tall, then how over the years that group would diminish to where it was just myself and mom in a small apartment. And I smile.

The thought occurs to me that life isn’t perfect, but looking at all my blessings both past and present I truly feel rich. And I smile

Then there are the friends that make my Lady and I feel special by just being apart of our lives. And I smile.

The greatest blessing, Gift that I ponder is the one given by my Lord in the form of a child, a Savior that came and brought life eternal to me and all that believe. And with tears, I smile

In just a few days we’ll all be turning a new page as we ring in 2016. For most it will be no different in our lives, for others perhaps some major changes on the horizon. But the one thing we all share is we do not have any certainty on what tomorrow will actually bring.

One saying I use and some have adopted on how I approach this unknown, “I thank God for today, trust Him for tomorrow, one foot in front of the other and keep moving.”

Here’s also a New Year’s prayer I like:

Lord, You make all things new

You bring hope alive in our hearts

And cause our Spirits to be born again.

Thank you for this new year

For all the potential it holds.

Come and kindle in us

A mighty flame

So that in our time, many will see the wonders of God

And live forever to praise Your glorious name. Amen

From one “Traveler of the Rock Road” to all the others,

A Wonderful, Blessed and Happy New Year in 2016!

I pray that you smile often. See ya next year!

Oh, and in case you’ve never seen this here’s a sample of that “Miller Thing” I spoke of. 🙂

This is a story I shared once before and felt it was worth printing once again especially for the new readers. I’ll be taking next week off but look forward to bringing you “Traveling the Rock Road” in 2016.

I hope you’ll enjoy reading “The Love Box.”  Thanks for your part in making 2015 special for my Lady and me.

As a child there were times that I was separated from my mom. Being a single mother during the 50s plus severely hard of hearing made it hard for her to find work that would support her and the needs of a young child. So on occasion I would be sent to stay with extended family members until mom got on her feet and could come get me.

During one of those times I found myself staying with relatives in Eastern Kentucky. This was a family of six, nice but very strict. I had never heard of the term corporal punishment back then, but I learned what it was all about if I stepped out of line; and I sure missed my mom. I would think about how we would sit on the couch and play games or just hug. And yes these folks were good people, but warm emotions were something they didn’t show or share often. If I got hurt there was no compassion, if I cried it was “shake it off, it’ll get better.” And I sure missed my mom.

Often I would ask about her and when she was coming back for me, but my questions would be ignored. I began to wonder; maybe she isn’t coming back for me at all.

One day a large box showed up and inside were toys, games and clothes; and it was all for me. I didn’t understand why I was receiving this and when I thanked the parents of the family for the gifts, but they said it wasn’t from them. I thought a while about it and then asked, “Did my mom get these for me?” Again I received no answer, but this time they both looked at me hard as if to say I hit the nail on the head. From that point on each day I would climb inside of that box with one of my new toys and say to myself, “Mom’s coming for me, mom’s coming for me.”

Then the day came when my Great Aunt Pearl came to visit and spent the better part of a night talking with the parents. The next day for the first time I saw emotion from these people–sadness. Each member of the family gave me a hug and then Pearl and I boarded the bus to leave. “Pearl, where are we going?” I asked. With a smile she answered, “I’m taking you home.” Now I wasn’t sure what that meant or where that was located; by that point in my life I had lived in Kentucky, West Virginia, Maryland and Ohio. Where was this place she called home and how would I recognize it? That answer came when the bus finally came to a stop and the door opened. There was mom waiting to greet me with tears and hugs. I can’t tell you if I even understood where I was, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that was important was mom was there waiting on me, that in itself said, I was home.

Later on I learned that the box sent to me wasn’t really a big mystery. Mom had sent it because it was Christmas time and she wanted me to have something to know she was still there and stilled loved me. The people I was living with didn’t celebrate Christmas so they made no mention why it was sent, or from whom. I also learned it had been their plan to keep me and not let me return to mom, but that’s another story for another time. Perhaps they thought over time I would forget about mom and stop asking about her, but maybe they also learned that I could not be separated from my first love.

Some 2,000 years ago a Gift was sent from a Father, letting his children know He had not forgotten them, that His love was still there for them. That Gift was in the form of a Child, a Savior.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Another writer puts it like this, “Jesus was God’s gift to the world, not just for Christmas, but for every single day…your whole life through…and even beyond for all eternity.”

These many years later I can’t recall its contents, but I still think about that box, “The Love Box” as I refer to it, sent to let me know I wasn’t forgotten and I would someday be home with the one who loved me most.

Many years prior to that moment, a manager with a baby was the eternal representation of the same thing, the same love. Letting us know that God the Father hadn’t forgotten us, and waits until the jubilant moment when we are with Him, Home!

On behalf of my Lady and myself I like to thank all who have “Traveled the Rock Road” with us this year, and we look forward to more journeys in the coming year.

A very Merry and Blessed Christmas and New Year to you and your loved ones.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!”