Traveling the Rock Road

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.

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.