Traveling the Rock Road

Let me be straight forward, I love Facebook! I know all the problems there have been with this social media outlet, but it has given me opportunity to reconnect with friends and family, some I haven’t seen or heard from in years. I love to see where they’re at now, what they’ve done, how many children and grandchildren they have. I also enjoy new friends I have made and how we can interact as if we known each other for years. But I suppose what I love to the most is this gives me an avenue to tell about my Lord and Savior. As I say I’m not a religion man, but one of faith. And through that faith I have found something I believe is so wonderful, so awesome, that I just want to share it with others.

Now I not only talk about my Lord, but I love to brag on my family and post pictures of them. I also like putting something with a bit of light-heartedness and humor in it. My thinking is it brought a smile or chuckle to me, so maybe it’ll do the same for others. Once in a while I’ll come across something a bit philosophical in nature that touches me so I may post that as well. One such item was quite a surprise to me by the amount of reaction I had to it. It showed a picture of Eeyore, the constantly sad little donkey from HH Milne’s books Winnie the Pooh. The post points out that although Eeyore was always gloomy, or as the writer of this describes him, clinically depressed, his friends are always there for him. Even though they are aware of his Gloomy Gus persona, they never leave him out of their plans. The small article is summed up with these words, “They just show him love.” This little clip touched my heart because I know ones with “Eeyore Syndrome” so I posted it and wasn’t surprised when someone shared it and then another, and another. My surprise came when it was shared over 100 times. Then 200, 300, and now very close to 400 as I write.  So, then the question came, what is it that struck a nerve with so many? I imagine there’s numerous reasons why, some with the same purpose I had. But I also wondered, how many could relate to Eeyore, how many wished they had the support of friends as in this wonderfully mastered work of writing, but still fiction?

I read a quote that went like this; “When you’re surrounded by all these people, it can be lonelier than when you’re by yourself. You can be in a huge crowd, but if you don’t feel like you can trust anyone or talk to anybody, you feel like you’re really alone.” In this modern world we live in there seems to be a growing epidemic of depression, sadly I know of many. But one did tell me “I just wish more people would stop asking me how I’m doing and start asking me out to dinner or something. I think that would be a lot of help.”

As a Christian this tears at my heart because I know that my Lord does not want to see any of us in this situation. Psalm 34:17 “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.”  Isaiah 41:10 “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

So, I’m left to wonder that if all who profess Christ (since in my opinion we should be leading the charge anyway!) would reach out to our fellow “Traveler’s of the Rock Road” not with solutions, advice, or so-called answers to their problems, but with friendship, support, and most of all love, how many like Eeyore we could reach.

I think I’ll just leave it there for now, but end with a little prayer.

Lord, help us see and approach the Eeyores around us, and give us the heart of Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin. Amen.

See ya next time.

I have a friend who spent a number of years as a missionary in the Central African Republic. He wasn’t what many would consider to be a typical missionary, leading church services and such to the people there. He was a mechanic and he came to be a help to others there that were working to provide better lives for villagers, such as digging wells. He worked tirelessly to keep trucks and equipment running with the aid of several men native to the region. My friend told me many fascinating stories from his years in the C.A.R., but one particular account has stuck with me and made a conviction in my heart since.

One year this friend contracted a virus that made him miserably ill. At one time this most likely would have taken his life, but with advancements in medicine he would recover though the only thing he could do for the time being was lay in his bed and be miserable. One of the men that worked for him came to his house. He wasn’t there to offer anything to ease his suffering and he made no conversation since all my friend could do was lay on his bed and moan from pain. He just sat in a chair next to the bed for the entire day. It was a custom there when someone was gravely ill another would come and sit with them, I’m assuming to let them know they were not alone and that there were ones who cared. He couldn’t do a thing to stop the pain so he did the next best thing, be there. Perhaps simply a ritual to this man, but to me it spoke volumes of what God intended for all of us.

Someone wrote a modern-day parable that goes like this: “Sometimes we need someone to simply be there, not to fix anything or do anything in particular, but just to let us feel we are supported and cared about.” I’ve heard it said Christians fall down when it comes to caring for others like they should. And to be truthful many of us are guilty of not displaying enough compassion to others. But what if not only Believers but all would take a little extra effort to let someone know they are cared for, they are loved? But on the subject of Believers, Christ was certainly straight to the point of how we should treat each other.

Mark 12:30-31 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”

John 15:12 “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.”

There was a time I felt I had little to offer to someone else, that is until my friend told me the story of the man who sat with him. The only thing he had to give was a caring heart for his brother.  And I don’t know anything more precious or valuable than that.

This last weekend I traveled a 300-mile roundtrip to see an old friend in the hospital. I had nothing to bring him and I wasn’t sure what words God would give me to say to him. That didn’t matter. It was the fact that I came and showed him I cared that was the important thing. Now please, don’t take that as blowing my own horn; I’ve said often I’m not anything special. But God laid it on my heart that I had to go see this old friend to let him know two things with my presence; God cares for him, and so do I.  Again, I emphasize that I don’t see what I did as any more than showing love for this individual. But as of yesterday, he had not walked in several weeks.  And today, I saw a picture of him standing and using a walker. At times our Lord sends healing by someone showing that they care.

Just sayin’.

See ya next time

I’ve explained on several occasions that I grew up not knowing my father. He was in Ma’s life for just a short instance, but the moment he knew I was on the way he slapped it in “B” for boogie and was gone. Early in my life it was hard, but I grew past a desire to have this man in my life. Then one day in the early 80s I received two pieces of news that caught me by surprise. The first was my father suffered a heart attack and passed away. It saddened me a bit that we never got to meet but I was okay. The 2^nd revelation however was more surprising. I found out I had a half-brother that wanted to meet me. Matt was 8 years older and like me, grew up without the old man in his life. The day after the revelation of a sibling, we spoke on the phone and it was truly an enjoyable conversation. We spoke of our childhood days and what interests we had in common. I could feel excitement growing inside me. To think how lonely I’d felt at times during my youth being an only child, and now I could say I have a brother!

Several days later we were having coffee, face to face, in his kitchen. We laughed, talked about our families and careers plus exchanged pictures. I think I smiled the entire return trip home. This was more awesome than anything I ever experienced. There was going to be new plans to make, outings, holiday get togethers, family portraits, everything that others experienced I was now going to be a part of. But as we know, dreams don’t always measure up to reality.

It wasn’t long before we came to realize that even though we shared a mutual bloodline our personalities and overall attitudes were polar opposites. I was pretty laid back and seldom got upset. Matt, on the other hand, began to show he was very sober minded, didn’t care for much joking around, and probably the worse was he’d question what you meant when you something that he might take wrong. The get togethers became less as well as phone calls until finally all communication ceased. For a time, I questioned if I had done or said something that I needed to make right. But the truth of matter was this. Yes, blood made us brothers, but it couldn’t make us friends.  There were just too many differences us.

I found a quote that goes like this. “Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what.” Even though I had a large hole in my life from the lack of family, God filled that gap with people who became as close as family, if not more. There are several that I know that all I have to do is pick up the phone, and they’re there for me. And it doesn’t even have to be important, anything including just to hear a voice that knows me, that loves me just the way I am. That my friend, is family.

As a Christian I also have a family in Christ Jesus. The Bible is clear that even though each of us are completely different as individuals, we make up the family of God who is called upon to love each other.

John 13:35 “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Perhaps if Matt and I had been raised together things would have been different. I have two sons that are different as day and night, but they love each other and are best friends. I’m very proud of that by the way.

I think of Matt from time to time. Perhaps as fellow “Travelers of the Rock Road” our paths will cross again. But if not the best to you Older Brother. Remember, Millers Rule!!

See ya next time.

I think it’s safe to say that I didn’t waste any tears on waving 2018 goodbye; if any they were tears of joy that it’s finally behind me. No doubt my Lady and I faced more challenges and setbacks than what we’ve had in over 30 years. It’s really not the way any of us want to begin our Golden Years so to speak, but we met each moment head on and kept our sanity (for the most part) so to speak. Two motivational factors flooded my mind during our downturns. Enter the Good Lord and Pearly Mae.

The memory of the first house we bought in Ohio came back to me. It was an old place that needed a tremendous amount of work just for us to move into. All the windows had to be replaced, several walls had to be knocked out and rebuilt and the roof had to be totally redone. But the biggest selling point to my Aunt Pearl were the hardwood floors. They were filthy with several layers of dirt covering them, and when we cleaned off the soil and rubbish, the wood was marred with deep scratches. Pearl bought a floor sander and taking one room at a time she got the boards back where you could see the grain. Then came several coats of varnish that brought out the beauty of the flooring. As each room was finished my beloved Aunt would smile at the finished product, restored by countless hours of toil and elbow grease. She took so much pride in what had been accomplished.

Then came the year when the local river flooded; since we lived just a block away the authorities told us we would have to evacuate. The Red Cross had set up a shelter inside a large church where we stayed for several days. When we were finally allowed to return it wasn’t pretty. The basement was flooded and the water had reached several inches high on the first level. As we entered the structure, I could see the look of sadness on Pearl’s face. Her beautiful floors were covered with sand, garbage and a few dead fish. She walked room to room before sitting down at the dining room. And for the first time in my young life I saw the strongest woman I had ever known, cry. I wanted to cry with her! All the work she had done was now ruined and no one would have blamed her if she had put the house up for sale and left. But the moment the crying stopped, she shifted back into Super Pearly again. Grabbing brooms, dust pans and buckets we started cleaning up the mess taking the debris out one pail at a time. When the cleaning was complete, it was time to put the sander back into action, and then refinish each and every floor. It wasn’t as time consuming as the first but still it was labor intensive.  Once again, her beautiful floors were shining through the house. I remember one of the neighbors coming over and expressing how sad it was that Pearl had to do all that work twice. With her determined look she would often she answer, “You can give up, or you can get busy!”

In James 1:2-4 we read, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that becoming a Christian doesn’t mean life will be a walk through a flower garden. As I have named this blog it’s “Traveling the Rock Road,” it’s facing adversity just like everybody does; only difference is now you have God in the form of the Holy Spirit taking each step with you, never leaving or forsaking you. There are times I’m ready to run away in an attempt to leave my troubles behind. But we all know you can’t do that. So, I have to turn to my Heavenly Father for direction and peace.

Proverbs 3:5-6, “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.”

1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

Philippians 4:13, “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

It’s been a rough year, don’t know if this one will be any better; but I know I can meet all that comes my way. I was mentored by the strongest woman I ever knew, and I have the assurance that I’m not facing anything alone; my God is there for me.

Perhaps you’re at a breaking point and not sure what to do next. You don’t have to go it alone. The Maker of Heaven and Earth is there for you, every step of the way.

As the Lord and Pearly Mae both say, “You can give up, or you can get busy!”

I choose Option B.

See ya next time.

When I was a child some of my best friends were folks old enough to be my grandparents. I loved being around them, visiting their homes, eating the special treats they kept just for youngsters, but mostly I loved to listen to the stories they would tell from their young days. One of the special surrogate grandmas was a dear lady who lived next door to us back in Fremont–Florence. She worked for years at the county courthouse and was up on all the politics, local, state and national. She told me stories of politicians and dignitaries she had met on trips to Washington D.C. and visiting the White House and many other famous buildings. There was a picture of her and Harry Truman she kept on an end table she was very proud of. She’d talk about going to New York City and seeing places I dreamed of like the Empire State building and the Statue of Liberty. She me gave old items like a violin she played in her youth and a saxophone her husband would perform with. Without a doubt my prize possession still today is a solid oak tool box that I display in our front room I’m sure dates back nearly one hundred years.  The memory of Florene or Flossy as many called her still brings me joy. I suppose that’s because she always seemed to enjoy the visit of this one time obnoxious and inquisitive youngster.

As the years rolled past, Florence decided to move to the county nursing home. She had health issues and with no family to speak of and there she would get the care needed. Even though I had moved into my wild teen years, I still took time to visit dear Flossy and she was always so happy to see me. Over time she became blind, but the moment I would take her hand in mine she would feel all my fingers and then with a smile proclaim, “Johnny!” When I started dating Cathy, I told her there was someone I wanted her to meet. They immediately loved each other and Florence became our official grandmother. She filled that roll at our wedding and was just as proud to be a part as our parents. Shortly after marrying we moved to Indiana, but when we returned to the old hometown a trip to see this dear soul was on the agenda, and every time she was so happy for the visit. The time came when the visits were sadder. She could hardly communicate and would sit in her recliner, head hanging down. I would ask her if she knew who I was and she’d reply no. But the moment I took her by the hand she would feel all around my fingers like she done in the past and there would be a visible, brighter appearance in her demeanor; she knew Johnny was there to see her.

In Deuteronomy 32:7 we read the words “Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you.

When I think of Florence and so many of the elderly of my youthful days I think of this verse. I’ve had my share of advanced education, but nothing compares to what I learned about life as that I obtained from the ones I affectionally refer to as the “Old Guard.” I feel the greatest tribute I could give these pioneer “Travelers of the Rock Road,” was to try to emulate what they were telling me, teaching me. My goodness, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the words, “I wish I would have visited and listened to my grandparents more.” No, friends and family, these just aren’t stories they’re passing on, it’s life.

Florence went Home to her Lord many years ago, but I can still hear her soft voice ringing in my ears painting pictures in my mind, and planting truth in my heart.

I heard this quote recently “When the elderly die, a library is lost and volumes of wisdom and knowledge is gone forever.” Young people, don’t let that walking, talking library on life be gone without learning as much as you can. Remember, they have a treasure of knowledge they want to share with you. And the ones of you, like me, that are reaching those golden years; don’t be afraid to share your wealth of experience and wisdom with the ones you love. It will be the greatest inheritance you’ll leave them.

See ya next time.

By nature, I’m a pretty happy individual; really takes a lot to see the dark side of my personality. But just like anyone, I have my moments when I feel like I’ve reached the end of my rope without enough left to tie a knot and hang on. Last Wednesday was one of those moments.

It started with me getting up early to help with getting the grandchildren out the door. My daughter also had to leave to get to her job. She went out to her car but came back in quickly announcing that it wouldn’t turn over. Okay, no problem. It was cold out with a strong wind blowing, but I had my sweats on and I wouldn’t have to get out of the truck; just run her six miles to work and back to the house and see if I could get her car started. We were about two miles from home when one of the rear tires literally exploded. I came to a stop in a place that was too muddy to set up a jack to replace the tire. Calling my Lady, she came to the rescue and took our daughter the rest of the way to work. I called a tow truck and then stood in the frigid morning air flagging cars around me while trying not to get hit. As I waited for a half hour for the truck my mind began to work on me. “You know the towing charge is going to be $50, and you might as well replace both back tires so that’s $500. When Cathy gets back to pick you up, you’ll have to run her to work, then you have to go in to your work for a few hours. Hey, you’re down to one car; that means you’ll have to pick up Cathy and your daughter when they get off, not to mention the numerous errands you need to run. Happy Thanksgiving!!” The icy wind didn’t help and the voice inside my head started yelling, “Shouldn’t Cathy be back now; and where the devil is that truck? I’m going to get killed out here.” I’ll tell you friends and neighbors, if aggravation could be weighed out in pounds, mine would have been heavier than a whale. I began to get angry at being angry; that sure isn’t me and I don’t like it!

A policeman arrived who turned on his patrol car lights so I wouldn’t have to stand on the road flagging cars around while trying to avoid being roadkill.  The tow truck finally arrived with a driver that had the last thing I wanted right then; a cheery attitude. “Okay, Mr. Miller, I’ll have you taken care of in a jiffy; good thing this happened before the snow and ice comes, you might have had a real mess then. You can sit in my truck to get out of the wind while I hook up yours. At least it’s a beautiful morning, just look at that sunrise.” I was nice and thanked him for getting there, but inside of me was a boiling pot of grumble stew. When he finished loading my truck on to his, he pulled into a nearby driveway where he did the paperwork and I settled up with him. “Now do you need me to drop you anywhere? No extra charge wherever you have to go; I know it’s cold out there.” Now my smile was a little more genuine at this young man and his willingness to go the extra to help me. I assured him my wife would be there to pick me up soon, yet he wanted to wait just to make sure I’d be okay. He didn’t know it, but he was doing a great job of melting the iciness in my body, and I’m not talking about cold weather.

Cathy came pulling up a few minutes later so I shook his hand and thanked him for staying with me. “Words can’t express how grateful I am for your help, and your attitude. What’s your name?” With a smile as he looked down from his rig he answered, “My name is Emanuel.” I stood there in complete silence what was probably a few seconds but felt much longer. “That is an awesome name! Thank you, Emanuel.” Emanuel; “God with us”

2 Corinthians 12:9 “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

From the time I woke that morning until that moment out there in the cold with Emanuel, not once did I remember no matter what happens God is still there with me offering grace to get through the rough moments of life. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

There was still a ton of things to get done, but it went a lot easier after that moment with Emanuel. And I’m sure many would say that was just a chance encounter with this latest “Traveler of the Rock.” Perhaps. But I can’t help getting this picture of God looking down with some of his angels at my problems and frustration. I can almost see one angel saying, “John has forgotten you Lord.” Then the Lord saying, “It’s just a momentary lapse. We’ll send a special tow driver to him that should snap him back. Emanuel; God with us.

I’m going to leave you with a video of a song Buddy Greene does that says it much better than I can.

See ya next time.

As many of you know we just returned from a wonderful visit to Maine and the surrounding New England states. I confess as much as we try to stay economical on such a trip, it still cost more than we like to spend. As much enjoyment as we got from this recent sojourn, I found my mind drifting back to a simpler time, a less extravagant moment in our lives together that truly brought just as much joy.

The year was 1975, my Lady and I had to watch every penny we had which wasn’t all that hard considering how little money we had. Cathy worked at a bank and I kept a part-time job while attending school. After all the bills were paid it didn’t leave much for entertainment. But somehow, we set aside $50 for an upcoming three-day weekend and we decided to explore our new home state of Indiana. Now $50 will barely get you a dinner in a nice restaurant in today’s economy, but in ’75 with gas priced at $0.57 a gallon, you could travel quite easily.  It also helped that we packed food to eat along the way, plus we were driving an old Dodge van that was carpeted plus wood paneling on the sidewalls and roof and we placed a blowup mattress in the back for sleeping. What made it extra fun is we didn’t have a set destination; we just loaded into the van that Saturday morning and started driving. We’d take turns picking a direction just to see where it would take us. We traveled through little no-name communities and along farmland where corn was beginning to rise and took rest stops in small parks or along a river or lake. Talking to folks along the way was a delight and they would give us ideas of places to go and see. I think they all took delight in conversing with a happy young couple tooling around in what was probably considered back then a hippie van.

Our travels continued south where we ended up in an area we’ve come to love and returned to many times—Brown County and the small artist community of Nashville, Indiana. We spent an evening wondering through all the shops seeing the merchandise the creative people of the community had produced. There were paintings, metal works, jewelry, clothing, leather crafts and my favorite, homemade musical instruments such as guitars and mandolins. As night set in we made our way to Brown County State Park and parked in a spot in the primitive camping section for $6. We bought a small bottle of wine, cheese and crackers and settled into our “luxury accommodations” in the back of Bernie (what I use to name all my vans) for the night. The next morning, we drove around the park which is located in the hilly region of Indiana. We got to see a beautiful sunrise as it came over the hills that showed us all the beauty that surrounded us. Driving back into Nashville we afforded ourselves the luxury of having a country breakfast at a small restaurant on the edge of town before heading back home to Winona Lake. When we arrived back home we still had $10 which was more than enough for dinner at Pizza Hut. I do believe Cath and I still count that as one of the most memorable trips we ever experienced.

I suppose my reason for sharing this story is twofold. First, since those days we’ve experienced more extravagant journeys and seen many great sites around the country and Canada, and have stayed in luxury accommodations from time to time. But we’ve never lost our love for the simple pleasures like bicycling a trail across Pennsylvania and Maryland and seeing towns that haven’t changed in fifty years. We also love driving the Blueridge Parkway to see mountains and valleys while listening to CDs of soft instrumental music. Then there’s the U.P. of Michigan with some of the most majestic falls you’ll ever see. Beauty, wonder and serenity are closer than many realize; take time from a busy life to enjoy them. As one writer puts it, “Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you will look back and realize they were the big things.

My second point is this; how much would I really have enjoyed any of these pleasures if I didn’t have my Lady to enjoy them with me? It’s funny to look back to the days when we first got together and realize how many differences we had. As a matter of fact, many of our friends and even family didn’t give us more than two years before we’d go our separate ways. But God knew more than anyone when He brought us together. He knew we’d have rough times because we were so different, but He also knew that we were willing to become one, in Him. We would grow to not only love each other, but to love the simple pleasures of life, such as His creation. I think one of the greatest Bible verses on marriage can be found in Philippians 1:9 “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight” In 45 years of marriage we’ve learned the value of not just growing old together, but growing up together with a deep concern for each other’s needs. Another puts it this way, “We just don’t get to grow old together, we get to grow up together. And that’s the read adventure!”

If the Lord’s tarries, we “Travelers of the Rock Road” will experience more adventures and I’m sure many will be will be simplistic in nature, just because that’s the joy that God put in our hearts to share together.

Thanks for reading.

See ya next time.

Cathy and I just returned from a wonderful road trip up to Maine and some of the surrounding New England states. It was tiring seeing as we traveled 2,600 miles round trip, but we both love seeing all the sights along the way and stopping occasionally to take in something we hadn’t planned on. Seldom do we turn on the radio, we see it as a distraction to gazing on the beautiful landscape that our country has to offer. But on one trip I did have the radio playing and heard something I had never heard before nor since that left a lasting impression on this man.

It was an early Sunday morning and I was driving north on Interstate 77. Being by myself on this trip, I chose to flip on the radio to see what programs were being aired knowing most would be church services broadcasting from the region I was passing through. One program caught my interest by the music they played and what the commentator had to say. But the most interesting moment came at the end of broadcast when the emcee finished with these words. “Well folks as you know when I began this program five years ago; if you wanted to give to this ministry great, but that wasn’t the most important thing. It was using this as an avenue to get the Word of God out. I told God that as long as the money was there for each broadcast I would continue on; but the moment we couldn’t pay the bills, I would take that to mean He didn’t want us to go on. Well, today we have just enough to finish this broadcast and this will be the end. Thank you to all the loyal listeners who have supported us with funds, prayers and kind words to our ministry. May God bless you in the future. Please pray for a direction to what the Lord wants us to do next. Goodbye.” After a short pause the station manager came on to reaffirm that was program was really over, and that the commentator asked that people do not send any money to save the show; God had spoken that it was time to stop.”

Turning off the radio I pondered the man’s words for probably the next hundred miles. I had never heard anything like that before. I haven’t watched many programs like this on TV, but it seemed they were constantly having a fundraiser, pleading for folks to do all they can to keep the program on the air, offering special gifts if they contribute a certain amount. Even asking ones if you don’t have the money to put in on a credit card; God would honor you for it. Hmm.

Now I’m not totally criticizing these programs, like I said I haven’t watched enough to know what they’re doing and perhaps it’s an important ministry. But after hearing this Brother’s words and reasoning of why it was time to end his broadcast, it did leave me wondering about the motives of some of these others. He was going totally on faith when he began his ministry, and it was faith when he chose to bring it to an end. I thought about a verse I’ve used often but in a different context.

Ephesians 2:8-9 “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Perhaps this minister did not want the program to be seen as his or have people look at him instead of Christ. I also have a feeling that he knew God had something else in store for him, perhaps something better.

I like what Bill Hybels says, “If the request is wrong, God says, No. If the timing is wrong, God says, Slow. If you are wrong, God says, Grow. But if the request is right, the timing is right and you are right, God says, Go!”

I never heard the fellow “Traveler of the Rock Road” again. Perhaps his ministry reached thousands if not millions. Or perhaps like us bloggers he only had a small audience. But I do know the faith he displayed spoke mountains of just who we should be in Christ.

Walk by faith, not by sight. Works for me!

See ya next time.

I was quite sure Aunt Pearl and I were looking at the same house, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell that from the expressions on our faces. She had a smile stretched from ear to ear, whereas my look overflowed with, “You gotta be kidding me!” The house she had just bought as our first home in Ohio resembled the kind of place people would set up as a haunted house and charge admission during the Halloween season to scare the bejeebers out of you. It was a large structure set back off the street. The paint was weathered and dingy and the front porch didn’t appear safe enough to set foot on. The chimney on the side of the house looked like it could come down in a second. The back of the house was worse with half the porch collapsed and the roof sagging in the middle. Several windows were broken out and the basement was no more than an oversized root cellar. Throw in a couple dilapidated out buildings, a half dozen creepy looking old trees and you get the vision of the place they shot the TV show the Munster’s, only worse! The inside of this rickety manor wasn’t much better. The floors and walls were dirty with holes and the musty odor made you want to run back outside. Pearl and her husband Price, as we called him, had been working there already. They fixed three rooms livable enough for them, ma and me. The plan was to bring this old lower east side palace back to life while we lived there. And the cost to purchase this fixer-upper from hades? $2,000.

Dear old Pearly Mae could tell I didn’t share the same enthusiasm as her about the house. “Johnny, we’re going to paint the house white with green trim. When we fix the porches, I’ll put lattice on the ends for flowers to grow up. We’ll have a place to sit out in the evening to enjoy. We’ll rebuild the kitchen and it’ll be a biggest you’ve ever seen. The trees and the building will come down so we can plant a garden. We’ll repair the walls and the windows, and the floor will be sanded and stained to bring the hardwood beauty back out. Someday this will be the prettiest house on the block.” I’m sure I stared in amazement as she pointed out all these great renovations she envisioned. As a child I had a pretty vivid imagination, but I was having a hard time seeing the house the way Pearl did. One thing I did know, there was no one more determined than my Aunt Pearl. So, if she said it, that was good enough for me.

It felt like an eternity that we lived in a small portion of that house, but each day Pearl, Price and mom would be busy fixing, rebuilding or cleaning. We didn’t have a car, but there was a lumber yard a half block away and since the project was done little by little, we could walk the needed materials back to the house. A talented man in home improvement named Louie became a good friend and helped with plumbing and wiring. The out buildings came down easily and they hired someone with a big truck to take the debris away; what he didn’t take we burned up on the back side of the lot. All trees except two were cutdown by a man and his sons and they took the wood back to their place for firewood. The backyard was dug up and we planted our first garden; the next year fruit trees and grapevines were added.  Since the sidewalk leading up and around the house was all busted up we poured a new, one small slab at a time. The porches were repaired and beautified; lattice was set in place on the ends and Pearl grew the most beautiful climbing bluebell flowers. The inside took on a new life, from dark and dingy to bright and vibrant. The décor was reminiscent of Rockwell paintings from the Saturday Evening Post. It seemed like the work would never end, but something slowly and wonderfully appeared.

I remember walking home from school one day in the late spring. When I reached our house I stopped and stood there for a moment to take it in. Where an old house that looked like a disaster hit, stood now a beautiful structure white with green trim, large porches complete with swings and lattices on the ends where brilliant blue flowers grew. Around back I could see the black soil we turned by shovel where small green vegetables were growing. Soon it would teem with enough produce to feed us until the next planting season. The house was beautiful; it was the most beautiful home on the block. Then the thought came to me, “I’m finally seeing the house the way Pearl always envisioned it in her dreams and heart, and now in reality.

“When I think of vision, I have in mind the ability to see above and beyond the majority,” Chuck Swindoll.

As I admit I couldn’t see the house the way Pearl did, and no doubt the neighbors had some interesting comments in their homes about the man, two women and a child taking on what looked like a hopeless project. But none of that deterred the vision and commitment held bt the dear lady from West Virginia. Whether or not anyone else believed it she knew what she saw in her heart and she was determined to see it through. Later in years I realized something else about my mentor, she approached her faith in God the same way she did that old house. She saw something from the words in the Bible that gave a vision of what was ahead of her.

Philippians 4:13 – “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”                                                         Psalm 37:4 – “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”                       John 16:33 – “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”                                                                                  John 14:3 – “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

No one’s doubt was ever going to take away her belief and her dream of someday being with her Lord in Heaven. Words cannot express how grateful I am to share that same belief and dream that Pearly Mae instilled in me.

It been well over fifty years since we moved into that oversized shack and made it into a home I prize in my memory banks to this day. On occasion I’ve returned there just to drive by and remember. The neighborhood has fallen on hard times and the old house is once again an eye sore. But in my heart I still see the beauty that once was there, because of the dream of one “Traveler of the Rock Road.” Pearl lived out her dream there, and now lives it out in Heaven for eternity.

How bout you; where are your dreams and your visions taking you? It’s not too late. Not as long as you have breath; especially when it comes to taking Christ as your Savior. 

As I enjoy quoting one of my favorite authors C.S. Lewis, he had something to say on this subject, “You are never too old to set another goal or to dream.”

See ya next time.

I’ve been honored to know many men and women had have not only taught me truths from God’s Word, but have challenged me to lead a life dedicated to serving our Lord, now and until my days on earth are finished. One individual in particular challenged me greatly, not so much in what he had to say, but how he lived his life.

Andrew served in the Marines during WW2 and while on board a ship he attended a church service one evening along with many of his fellow Marines, knowing the next day they would face a fierce battle. Hearing the message that the Chaplin gave, and with the nudging of the Holy Spirit on his heart, he gave his life to Christ. “God,” he prayed, “I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, but if I’m still alive I promise to serve you every day.”

The next morning, he and thousands of other soldiers loaded onto landing boats where they stormed onto shore under heavy artillery fire. Andrew ran as fast as he could hoping to find anything to shelter him from the bombardment. Slowly he made his way off the beach and up to the hills were the enemy was dug in. A marine up ahead of him was shot and he ran over to help him. Dragging his wounded comrade-in-arms to a place that gave them some safety, he checked to see what he could do to help him. This fighter was in tears from the pain brought on from the bullet entering his body. But he looked up at Andrew and said, “Don’t worry about me! “Keep going! Keeping fighting! You’re needed!” Torn with anguish at leaving his man behind, he picked up his rifle and returned to the battle. For over two weeks Andrew would fight for all he was worth sometimes rotated back to rest, but then returning to the frontlines. Then. Finally. The battle was over and he and the rest of the warriors could finally relax.

Andrew made efforts to find out what happened to the wounded man, but without knowing his name it was impossible. The casualties were in the tens of thousands; there was no way to know if he lived or died. But Andrew never forgot the marine’s words; “Keep going! Keeping fighting! You’re needed!” He would remember those precious words all the days of his life.

Returning to the states, Andrew attended Bible college and then seminary. Upon graduation he returned to Asia where he experienced horrors of war, as a missionary. He stayed there for nearly 40 years sharing his faith with countless thousands and leading many to Christ.

When the time came, he returned to the U.S., bought a little home and took up gardening. He had learned much on raising flowers and vegetables and his plants were the envy of the neighborhood. One neighbor in particular asked if he would teach them how to grow such beautiful vegetation. Soon he was instructing others on his techniques. With every person he tutored in gardening, he shared the gospel of Christ, leading many to the Lord. Even though he was retired he knew his mission wasn’t over. “Keep going! Keeping fighting!”

As Andrew aged and grew feeble, he had to be placed in a nursing facility. He was no longer able to use his arms and legs, but he could still talk. Befriending a nursing assistant who cared for him, he told her often of God’s love for her. One evening, at the end of her shift, she returned to his room where they talked for several hours; that night she came to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. The next day she brought a friend to Andrew and told how she desperately need to hear his words. The young lady left his room also a new creature in Christ. Then one day the first girl came to him in tears. Her husband was living a terrible life that was destroying both of them. “If he would only come and talk to you I know he’d change, but he won’t.” Andrew told her, “Don’t give up! Keep going! Keeping fighting!” The two of them met everyday to pray for her husband. Weeks passed before the young friend came into his room, beaming a broad smile, and leading her husband by the hand to Andrew’s bedside. It would be nice to tell you he gave over to Jesus, but he just couldn’t. Andrew passed away several days later. The fight and mission were over for this “Traveler of the Rock Road.” Or was it?

Many attended his funeral service including the gal and her husband. Good old Andrew might have been gone, but he wasn’t done telling of his Lord and Savior. The pastor told much of Andrew’s life and how much he loved Jesus and wanted others to do so also. Of course, he had the verse most known at his service, but he wanted them to hear it again, perhaps listening for the first time.

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

When the pastor gave the invitation for anyone to accept Jesus, the husband was first to respond.

“Keep going! Keeping fighting!”

I suppose there are several ways I could end this week’s writing, but I think I’ll end it with this thought of what I believe Andrew heard the moment he was in the presence of the One he served so faithfully.

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Another way to put it; “You didn’t quit going. You didn’t quit fighting. You’re Home now Soldier!”

See ya next time.