Traveling the Rock Road

Some friends told me a story about a well-known band from the 70s that came to their town to put on a concert. These guys were hired as roadies to help set up the stage for the evening concerts. When they finished they became part of the entourage sent to retrieve the musicians from a nearby city where hotel accommodations were more to their suiting.  All the band members were ready and loaded into two luxury vans; all except the lead singer. Entering the hotel to see what might be the holdup, they met the star-studded performer in the lobby and he was not happy. “I looked out and saw you only sent two vehicles. That’s for the band, not me! I come alone so if you don’t have another vehicle just for me, there won’t be a concert. You understand me?” They got it and after a quick phone call a company there in the community soon sent a stretch-limo for the singer and another unidentified person. Arriving at the concert venue, this pompous male-diva continued to be rude to everyone who had contact with him. The only time you saw a smile and heard gracious words was while he was on the stage. Afterwards he sat at a table, signed autographs and seldom raised his head to see the person standing in front of him. When finished he and his mystery companion loaded back into the limo and left. All the people that dealt with him were saying good riddance! It was a great concert, but no one wanted an egotistical self-proclaimed rock ‘n’ roll god around anymore than necessary. Then I spoke to another friend.

He was a police officer assigned to security and also got the full brunt of this guy like the rest. But when I spoke to him there was a bit more compassion in his words than anyone else. He had become rather close with the stage manager that was coordinating setup and the like, and he knew this ogre well from working with him for years. He shared that the singer suffered from depression and, if you can believe it, low self-esteem. The mystery man with him was his personal psychiatrist who accompanied him every moment he was on the road. Even with being blessed with an incredible voice that took him to the top of the music industry he always saw himself as less of a person than he really was. To make up for it he would display a hard and rude demeanor to everyone. Evidently it was the only way he had confidence to take the stage. Interesting huh?

I heard a quote this week by Quincy Jones, “A big ego is often just overdressed insecurity.” Wow, that fit this guy like a glove; made sense explaining his ill-mannered ways. But then I began to think about other folks that portray that kind of personality, including yours truly.

There have been times when I’ve been challenged about my faith in Christ. And on more than one occasion someone would trip me up with a comment or question to which I wasn’t able to give a good answer. I can remember becoming angry at being inadequately prepared for some of these attacks. So, I’d shoot back with something like, “Well, if you want to believe your nonsense and end up going to hell, be my guest!” Yep, that’s a sure way of telling about the love of God for someone. NOT! But after doing some research I found that was only the last half of Jones’ quote. The rest of it goes like this, “Be humble with your creativity & gracious with your success.”

Ephesians 4:2 teaches, “Be completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love.” When I accepted Christ, I gained something special: Grace, Mercy, Forgiveness, Eternal Life.   That’s special, but I shouldn’t act as if it makes me better than anyone else.  I realize I don’t have all the answers and I’ve had to admit that at times. But I can tell what I do know, and in a manor that is gentle, kind, and hopefully in way someone will see it as special.

I really like what Matthew 5:14-16 in the Message Bible says.  “Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.”

Not hidden, not pompous, but straight up humble like God wants us to be.

The singing “Traveler of the Rock Road” retired a few years back and is no longer in the limelight.  As for his insecurities that he hid with an overbearing attitude; well, I hope he’s gotten over that and has allowed people to get close enough to see his imperfections, and still like him for who he is.

But then, shouldn’t we all?

See ya next time.

My time spent in the music industry was short, but I did have the opportunity to get to know several musicians I’ve been able to keep contact with over the years. One certain individual never made it the big stage, so to speak, but he was a talented writer and made a decent living from other artists recording his songs. I always liked Bobby, as he was called, because he never put on airs and treated everyone friendly. Frankly at that time in the entertainment world ones like Bobby were rare so I really enjoyed seeing and talking to him.

A few short years later I was near his home so I decided to drop in and see how my old friend was doing. He didn’t recognize at first, and he had changed a bit for the rougher. But soon the familiar smile came to his face and he invited me in. The house was a bit cluttered, but over by his piano were framed albums of acts and bands that had recorded his tunes, all reaching the stage of soon to be called oldies. But Bobbie was still making money off royalties so he might have been living sloppy, but he was comfortable.  I asked him, “Do you have new material you’re working on to be released?” With a smile that said, “I was hopping you’d ask that,” he slid onto the bench behind the piano. He began to play the most beautiful melodic ballad I had ever heard. The words combined with the enchanting tune put chills down my body and I thought, “This is going to be a classic!” He played a verse, chorus and bridge before stopping. “That’s all I have so far but I’ve got a record producer anxious for me to send it to him when finished.” “That is so awesome Bobby, I can’t wait to hear it on the radio.”  I left Bobby’s house that knowing soon this new song of his would on everyone’s lips.

Time passed and I had almost forgotten about Bobby’s beautiful tune, that is until visiting another old friend. Frank was excited to play a rough recording he made and wanted me to hear. It only took a second to recognize Bobby’s voice and the song he had played for me earlier. Great I thought, he finished the song but hasn’t sold it yet. As I listened I heard a verse, a chorus, and a bridge before the song ended. Frank then said, “That’s all he has so far, but a producer is anxious to get his hands on it. “I know,” was my thought. Three years had passed since Bobby played me the same unfinished song with promises that it would soon be a finished product for the world to hear. So what’s up with that?!!

A couple of years later and I ran into Frank again and the conversation soon turned to Bobby and his unfinished song. Frank started smiling which told me he knew something. He started, “I went back to Bobby and asked him about the song and all the years spent unfinished. He fessed up that was a tune he started some 20 years ago and never finished it any further than we had heard. He doesn’t write anymore, but gets asked all the time if has anything in the works, so he’ll pull that song out to appease people and tell his jive. He keeps busy golfing, fishing and playing piano at functions like wedding receptions and community functions. He loves his life the way it is, but he doesn’t think people who knew him earlier on would want to hear those things. So, rattle the ivories for someone, send them out the front door impressed, then sneak out the back and head for his fishing boat.”

Rick Warren: “God specializes in giving people a fresh start.”

Bobby was well into his 60s the last time we were together. His time in the music industry had been fruitful for him, but now music was changing and he didn’t have the desire to pursue it any longer. He wasn’t sad or angry like many would be, he was content to do average joe activities now and he was having the time of his life. He just didn’t think people from his past would understand so he’d keep up the persona of still being a writer just to make other’s happy.

God knows for the majority we can’t keep the same energy, skills and desires that drove us at a younger age. The time comes when it’s time to slow up and perhaps take a new course of life. That doesn’t mean we stop living, it merely allows us to stay active as we continue as “Travelers of the Rock Road.”

I knew another gentleman that for 50 years had been a missionary in South America. His final years were spent at home gardening vegetables and flowers. He was always asked by other how they could garden better. This gave him a new avenue to talk to people and share his faith. His last year was spent at a nursing facility before going Home to his Lord. But not before leading three people to the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

Isaiah 43:18-9 “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

I never saw Bobby again, but I do hope he finally came to a point to say, “I don’t do that anymore, but I caught enough bluegill last month to host a great fish fry!”

I don’t know who said it but I like it. “Today I close the door to the past, open the door to the future, take a deep breath, take a step on through and start a new chapter in my life.”

Works for me!

See ya next time.

I’m guessing it would be a safe to say that the majority of baby boomers grew up with parents or grandparents that smoked. It was the norm! Before the Surgeon General warning on cigarette packs that smoking was hazardous to your health, nearly half the population of the United States lit up on a regular basis, and my family was no exception. Aunt Pearl and Ma were hard core smokers; I think we had ashtrays in every room of the house. After the evening meal I’d see Pearl smoke up to three cigarettes before getting up to clean the kitchen. But somewhere around 1965 she had a routine medical examine where x-rays showed she had a small spot on one lung. That was enough for her! On the day she received the report she smoked her last cigarette and never touched another one again. She shared the news with her family and I can’t say for sure if it was an incentive for her brother, my Great Uncle Sam, but he quit about the same time; with one difference.

On the day dear old Pearly Mae stopped puffing, she took what cigarettes she had, ran water over them and into the trash they went. Sam wasn’t as forthcoming in his campaign of becoming tobacco free. He quit but knew the effects withdrawal can have on a body and mind. Instead, he bought a new pack of Winston, and placed them in the Mason jar you see. Sam told his family he was done with smoking, “but just in case,” he wanted to have a pack on hand if it got to rough for him. He set the jar on a shelf, stared at it often I’m sure, but never opened it. Time went on and as nicotine lost its hold on Sam I believe temptation to open the jar faded and a victory smile came across his face. I can see him holding the jar, showing it off to others as someone would display a medal or victory trophy. “You see this? It was trying to take my life, but I didn’t let it. I won the battle!”

“The first step on the way to victory is to recognize the enemy.” Corrie Ten Boom

Both Sam and Pearl recognized that the simple joy they experienced from lighting up was actually a slow-motion death trap that would cause a terrible and painful death. And they said “NO!”  Tobacco addiction was not going to rule over them, they were going to have victory over this cancer-causing demon. The same can be said for their spiritual lives as well. Realizing that no matter what they did physically, they would someday succumb to death. It happens to all of us. Then what? Old Uncle Sam and Aunt Pearl saw nothing they could do would stop the inevitable, except for one thing.

Romans 3:23-24 “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.

Romans 6:23 “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

John 3:16-17 “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.”

They won again! But not by anything they did, but by accepting what the love of God did for them by sending Jesus to take away their bondage, their cancer and giving them eternal life.

E.W. Kenyon; “This is a Faith Fight. We win our battle by our recognition that it has already been fought and won by Jesus and by accepting the thing that Jesus has done for us. We do not pray for it. We do not struggle for it. We simply look up and say, “Father, the battle has been won” In the Faith fight, God does it all. He conquered Satan and put away sin. He bore our diseases, so that we only need to thank Him and enjoy it.”

Pearly Mae left this world in 1984 and her little brother Sam followed her to heaven ten years later in 94. Both these “Travelers of the Rock Road” left behind small reminders of the victorious lives they led. I have several around the house I look on with pride from time to time. Sam’s oldest granddaughter Karen now displays his victory jar at her beautiful home. We estimated the cigarettes inside to be over 50 years old, still sealed as the day they came from the factory. Being an ex-smoker myself, I can’t help but wonder how fresh they still are. Nope Nope Nope! I’m not tempted. Took 32 years but by golly I did it! But as I held this prized possession handed down from generation to generation, I could almost see Uncle Sam looking at it with his ornery smile and saying, “See, beat ya, didn’t I?!!”

I got a feeling he said that to the devil a few times, too.

See ya next time.

I’ve spoken in the past about being raised by a single mom and the problems and obstacles both of us had to overcome. It’s never been easy for any unwed mother, but back in the 50s a woman could be stereotyped and black-marked by society harshly and often ostracized by their own family. Fortunately for Ma and myself there were ones of our kinfolk that loved us enough to help as they could, and of course one type of help was to give advice. The thought was that if mom didn’t find someone to marry, the authorities would step in and take me away from her, so they encouraged her to find someone quick as possible. Enter Arlen, my just-for-a-moment, stepdad.

I don’t remember a lot about old Arlen, but I liked him. He was always nice to me and would take me lots of places while Ma was at work. My favorite was this old “restaurant” that smelled funny but where folks always seemed happy and music blared from the jukebox constantly. My favorite part was I could eat all the peanuts and drink as much ginger ale as I wanted. (I’m having a Canada Dry right now in his honor.) But at night when we returned to the apartment and Ma would get home from work, I’d be rushed to bed so they could have a little talk. A loud talk!! I couldn’t hear all that was said from my room as I laid still in the dark and stared at the light that shown under the door. The talk would go from loud angry words to fever pitch screaming, then breaking of things and at times Ma crying. In her haste to take the advice of some she married this seemingly kind, gentle and happy individual, only to find out later he suffered from substance abuse addition. In those moments a different man would appear; one that was angry, hateful and abusive. This Jekyll and Hyde lifestyle with Arlen went on for some time until one night Ma came in my room, wrapped me in the blanket from the bed and rushed us out of the apartment into a waiting taxicab that took us across town to my Great Aunt Pearl. I was taken to bed, but the next morning is one I’ll never forget. The two of them were sitting at the kitchen table and Ma had a large black and blue mark that encircled one of her eyes. The sight sent me instantly into hard crying, but Ma was there to pick me up, hold me close to her and say, “it’s going to be alright.” That was the last I would see of Stepdad Arlen for many years; Ma never married again and as time passed I had to wonder how this man who was so nice to me could be such a monster to my mother. I also pondered, was Ma so broken after that short time she could never trust another man again?

Rick Warren wrote; “God has a purpose behind every problem. He uses circumstances to develop our character. In fact, he depends more on circumstances to make us like Jesus than he depends on our reading the Bible.”

Ma was no Bible scholar, in fact she could barely read. But she knew the One she trusted would be there for her. Even though for a short moment in time her life was living hell, she recognized it didn’t have to be that way forever. Thus, she put a forth a life dedicated to caring for the one man/child she loved more than anyone, to teach him the right ways to live. She might not have used the most orthodox approach in raising me to honor my life by honoring God. Deuteronomy 31:6 “Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”

Ma might have been happy to have a helpmate in her life, but the little woman from West Virginia, with little education and a sever hearing handicap was strong enough, with the help of her Lord and Savior to be content in her life role. She took great pride on how her son turned out. It was years before I realized what her faith and sacrifice did in shaping the direction for this “Traveler of the Rock Road,” and I feel like the luckiest man in the world to have a Ma like I did.

It was some ten years later I was riding my bike and as I crossed the bridge in my hometown I noticed this very old gent sitting against the outside wall of a local tavern. As I started to pass him you can imagine my surprise when he called out in a gravelly voice, “Johnny!” Breaking to a stop I looked back at him not having the foggiest who he was. “You don’t know me, do you?” I shook my no and then he asked, “How’s your mother?” Arlen. It had been ten years since my young eyes had seen him but he looked every bit thirty years older. He started to say something else, but I cut him off with, “She’s fine,” and I peddled for all I was worth to get away from him. At that moment even though he looked like he couldn’t get off the ground, I was scared of him and I hated him for what he did. In the fifty years since that day, I’ve thought of Arlen periodically, for I’ve seen all too many just like him. Substance abuse has clouded their minds where they don’t realize the damage they do to others as well as themselves. All I can say is God can help you bust out of that death trap if you’ll truly let Him. And if you’re not interested in what I or someone else can show you of the power of God in restoring a life, then for goodness sake get help somewhere before it’s too late. Friend, whether you want to believe this nor not, you’ve been made too special to do this to yourself. Okay I’m done.

See ya next time!

When asked how many years I’ve been playing music I always tell people over 50 years now. But I realized the other day that’s not exactly true. Since age 12 music has played an important role in defining who I am. But there came a time I packed up the drum kit and stored it away in a closet. Then except for a cheap beat around guitar, I got rid of everything I had and hardly played a note for 7 years. So why would a person who was passionate about something suddenly give it up? Well, several factors were involved.

No doubt the catalyst for my exodus from music first came in 1984 when a terrible accident took the life of my mentor and greatest friend, my Great Aunt Pearl. The tragedy of losing my beloved Pearly Mae so suddenly left me empty and suffering from depression for years. With my biggest fan and supporter gone, music didn’t mean to me what it had it prior.

At about the same time reality opened my eyes and thinking wide enough to realize I was never going to reach the pinnacle of success I had craved so dearly in the music industry. Sure, I’d had a few high moments and was privileged to work with or know some folks that were “living the dream” as I felt. But came to realize that that short point in my personal history was never going to be anything else but that–a brief moment, something to look back on, nothing more. To continue to chase an unreachable dream seemed fruitless and the desire to do any music was quenched.

This last reason came to me later in my musical pause but proved to be best reason for quitting. Music was my love, it was my passion, but even more, it was my obsession. An understanding emerged that I was putting music before everything. Perusing other interest or skills was never a thought. I loved my Lady and my children, but I began to see my neglect to them because of this passion for what truly was my first love. The final nail came when my eyes were opened that along with everything else, I had put my relationship to my Lord on the backburner. Music was my love and in a way my god.

The writer C.S. Lewis said, “God can’t give us peace and happiness apart from Himself because there is no such thing.” I did love my Lord, but when it came to my desire to make a name for myself in music I never counted Him in. I assumed that whatever my desire was He would bless it, even if I didn’t talk to Him about it first. I had no choice but to separate myself from this obsession if I was ever to be who God wanted me to be for my family, others, me, and Him.

But you know God wasn’t wanting me to stop playing music, He was wanting me to put things in proper perspective. I have a quote by Ezra Taft Benson that goes like this. “When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives. Our love of the Lord will govern the claims for our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.”

Matthew 6:33 “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

It’s been years since the music died in this “Traveler of the Rock Road.” But God resurrected it with a new passion in the Gray One. I’ve never reached the heights that were once my dream, but it’s been humbling to think of all the places and people for whom Cathy and I have performed since that dark time. He didn’t give me a gift to waste; He bestowed it upon me for His Glory.

I’m going to end with a story written my man C.S. Lewis that you may or may not see goes with mine. Personally, I feel it does.

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

Romans 11:36 “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”

Hey, see ya next time.

If you could see into my basement studio, you’d find many items besides musical instruments. Pictures, paintings, statuettes, antiques and numerous collectables; most of which would not have any value or meaning to anyone except this man. Nearly every item brings back a memory from my early days and the people that made a difference in my life, some who still do. It’s quite an array of garage sale artifacts, as I call them, but at times just sitting down, staring at my treasures and remembering brings a type of warmth and comfort to the Gray One’s soul.

Recently my Lady and I did a small concert back in my adopted hometown of Fremont, Ohio. It was an incredibly hot day for an outdoor gig, but it was good to be back where most of my memories were created. It was also great to see friends that showed up to hear us perform. That was a joy in itself; seeing dear folks that represented different stages of my life there. A wonderful couple that I’ve known since childhood. Some of my fellow alumnus from the great class of 73! There were two precious gals there that attended the church where I came to know Christ; the Grace Brethren Chapel. A real special treat was seeing an old friend from my first job at the Fremont Drive-In, Sweet Lady Jane Orndorff! Numerous others were there that my feeble mind can’t remember at this moment. So great to see them all, but I have to say the happiest moment came when I laid eyes on someone that I haven’t really known well until recent years, but now so blessed to call her friend and Sister.

Wynn Shell is the daughter of a dear saint everyone loved and knew simply as Billy. She could light up a room with her very presence. Billy never met a stranger; the moment you met her she treated as if you had been friends for years and then never forgot who you were.

I met Billy just a few years after we settled in Ohio. My best friend and his family invited me to their church, St. John’s Lutheran there in Fremont. Ma had sent me to one church where I never felt comfortable, so I quit going all together until St. John’s. On the first day of attending Sunday School, my feelings of insecurity started to set in. The only person I knew was my friend and everyone else either ignored my attendance to the class or stared making me feel uncomfortable. I realized I looked a little different in what I wore and being raised in an Appalachian home gave me a different accent than the rest which usually brought laughter. So, I was nervous in this new setting just hopping it wouldn’t be too long before we got out of there. Then the teacher, a kindly woman with a broad smile walked over to where I sat and said, “So what’s your name, honey?” My eyeballs grew larger than saucers! This gal had a Southern accent similar to mine. As Ma had taught me to say when someone asked my name, I blurted out “John David Miller.” “Well John David, it’s a dandy pleasure to have you join us!” And a friendship began that lasted until the day the Lord called her home. Billy not only became a friend, but one of my mentors making sure I understood the love of Jesus and what the Bible was really saying, not just in teaching Sunday School to a group of rambunctious preteens but in every facet of her being. She was the first person I ever heard speak of a personal and everyday relationship with the Lord. As the years went on and I would only see her occasionally, Billy still showed an interest in what direction my life was going. During my most rebellious times she caught up, sat me down and talked. Not as a lecturer warning me to straighten up before it’s too late, but she spoke to me as a friend, someone who cared what I was doing with my life and letting me know God had His eye on me because He had a special plan for my future. Now knowing her heart, I’m sure Billy said that to many; but words can’t express how deeply that message took root in this man. I have been privileged to sit under the teaching of some of the best biblical scholars of our modern age and have read the writings of countless others from history in hopes of a better understanding on the One I call Savior. But when I envision those who have made the greatest impact on this man, you can be sure that the beautifully spirited “Traveler of the Rock Road” who always greeted me with “Well Hello, John David,” will always be counted as one of the best and dearest teachers’ in my life. She was the living example of Ephesians 4:2 “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.”

So, returning to the concert in the park a couple of weeks ago where I got to see her beautiful daughter and legacy, Wynn, was pure delight in itself. Then she said, “I have something for you that belonged to mom.” Following her to her car she opened the trunk, and there was the old crank telephone you see in the picture. Many would say to receive such a rare antique in great condition was valuable, and they would be right. But Wynn wasn’t giving me the phone as an heirloom, she was giving me a piece of her beloved mother. This was something I could see Billy taking great pride and love in, keeping it in an unspoiled condition, caring to ensure it stayed the way it was made to be only better, and loving to show this treasure off. I saw all that because that’s what Billy did in the lives of the people she touched and loved. And yes, the Gray One was near to tears.

As the writer Amy Carmichael said, “You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.”

Thank for the gift of love, Wynn and Billy.

Since I’ve moved it into my studio I’ve stopped often to study it, remembering one of my first mentors, and the gift of herself she gave to me long ago.

I’ve even pick up the receiver, placed it to my ear and allowed my imagination to hear four precious words spoken to me. “Well Hello, John David!”  Someday.

See ya next time.

Father’s Day is the one holiday I’ve never celebrated since I grew up without a dad, that is until I became a father myself. The man who did his part to bring me into the world chose not to be a part of mine or my mother’s life; I was what some would call, an accident. Occasionally that would bring me to bitterness, and particularly on Father’s Day. It was good to see all my friends celebrating with their dads, but it generally brought out in me the question, what would it have been like to have mine around. Later in life as I slowly learned of this mystery man and his ways, I was thankful our paths never crossed. I’m not saying he was a terrible individual, but our differences, ideologies, attitudes and beliefs were broadly apart. So, I came to conclude it was the best for me that he headed down the road. Ya did good, Howie. Still, there was the nagging question in me, is there anything in me I can attribute to good old dad? I’ve heard many say they got their looks, ways and skills from their father. I had nothing I could point to, not even a picture when he was young to see if there were any similarities in our features. I concluded there was nothing I got from the old man, except being left alone. But somewhere along way, God put a different view in my heart and mind.

If it hadn’t been for this man I would have never come into the world. I would have never known the ones that surrounded me with a love that made me feel special and never alone. I would have never met and married the most incredible gal God could have put in my life. I would have never spent all the years working with kids who got into trouble, many of them without dads also. I would have missed out on youth programs that I worked and even headed up. And mostly, I would have never known the joy of having my own children and grandchildren. There’s also others that refer to me as dad or grandpa. When I think of all the joy I could have never experienced, how could I not feel blessed that God chose this man to be my father. By the grace of my Heavenly Father I have gained more than I could ever thank him for.

Rick Warren said it like this; “Your birth was no mistake or mishap, and your life is no fluke of nature. Your parents may not have planned you, but God did. He was not at all surprised by your birth. In fact, he expected it. Long before you were conceived by your parents, you were conceived in the mind of God. It is not fate, nor chance, nor luck, nor coincidence that you are breathing at this very moment. You are alive because God wanted to create you!”

Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart”

To all who may relate to the way my life started, remember. You have a Heavenly Father who is very proud of you!

And to all you earthly dads. A Very Blessed and Happy Father’s Day!

Oh yeah, and Howie, as I’ve said in the past, whether you know it or not, ya did good. Happy Father’s Day!!

See ya next time.

I mentioned in the past that my grade school years were not very joyful seeing that I had a learning disability, or to put in bluntly, I couldn’t read. Every year was a struggle but the worse was my 4^th grade year. All the subjects were tougher than the first three years of my educational trek and it didn’t help matters that I was convinced my teacher had been a prison guard or drill sergeant in her prior occupation.  Seemed she stayed on my case from September to June, but looking back I can’t spite her for it; that’s just the way it was done then.  Most educators were taught they had to be tough and this old gal was the personification of that technique. She threatened often with holding me back, so I did the best I could and prayed for a miracle. To this day I’m sure if it was a miracle or this female Sergeant Slaughter didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck with me a 2^nd time.  To my amazement and utter joy when the final grade card was handed out she had promoted me to the 5^th grade. Hallelujah!! I was moving on and leaving “Rita the Rock” behind! Ma and my Great Aunt Pearl knew how worried I was and encouraged me every chance they could. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell the great news.

The final bell rang and I was out the school door like a shot. I ran as hard as I could, smiling all the way. Unfortunately, a couple of older kids (better known then and now as bullies) decided to celebrate the end of school by beating the pulp out of me. Oh the joys of youth! After these future upstanding citizens had finished getting their jollies roughing me up, I took off running again still anxious to get home with my news even though pain was rising from the beating I had just taken only to trip over something and down I went on the hard sidewalk. Now I was bleeding and crying from my injuries. Still I kept focused on getting home no matter what. Mom was gone so I called out to Aunt Pearl who I heard up on the 2^nd floor. Taking off like a rocket, I shot up the stairs, and as my luck would have it that day I slipped and fell creating a gash in my forehead. Hearing the clamor, Pearl came running and was horrified to see her nephew looking like he had been run over by a truck! After drying my tears, cleaning me up and patching the wounds she asked, “Johnny, what in the world happened to you?” I gave her a short version of the apocalypse I endured getting home, but all that was secondary to what I really wanted to say. Even though I looked like I had a few rounds with Mike Tyson, I mustered up my biggest grin, “Aunt Pearl, I passed. I’m going to the 5^th grade.”  She closed her eyes for a moment like she was about to cry. Reaching out, Pearl took me in her arms and softly said, “I am so proud of you.” At that moment the beating, the calamities and even the rough year I had at school seem to melt right away. I was feeling loved and hearing words that gave my body and soul worth, and that meant more than anything in the world.

During the years I spent being a Christian, I will never tell anyone that it has been a joyous and happy experience each and every day. I have had failures, feelings of hopelessness, setbacks and discouragement. There have been those moments I felt I couldn’t go another day with the burden with which life was weighing me down.  And there have been times I’ve felt alone, that there was no one that cared nor understood my situation. But God has a way of getting His message across to anyone who will listen. That message can be summed up in these verses.

John 16:33 “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

Deuteronomy 31:6 “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

None of us have a promise of an easy time as we “Travel the Rock Road,” but like Ma and like Aunt Pearl, God has made a promise that no matter what comes our way, He’ll be there for us. During the low times, He’s there to comfort saying, “I’m so proud of you”. During our moments of victory, He’s there saying “I’m so proud of you.” One writer put it this way. “I can’t brag about my love for God because I fail Him daily. But I can brag about His love for me, because it never fails.” Knowing God is cheering me on, I think I have a good reason to smile through the bumps and bruises of life. Amen? I know life won’t be perfect until I reach Heaven and that’s alright by me. Now when I get there, and it happens that I run into a female Sergeant Slaughter type saying, “Johnny, you still owe me a history assignment;” well, you can be sure I’ll be happy to see her then disappear to the other side of Heaven for a couple hundred years!

See ya next time.

Back around 1981, I was laid off from my company for a few weeks so I was forced to file for unemployment benefits. Like everything else before the computer age, you had to go down to the Unemployment office, fill out a form they gave you, then stand in line for hours before you could talk to someone and get the ball rolling to receiving your weekly allowance. Many from the plant were in the same boat with being furloughed, so I knew many who had come to get help as I did. Noticing one individual in particular who just stared at the form in his hand, then looked around the room, gave me a pretty good idea he had more of a problem than just unemployment. Catching his eye, I motioned him over to where I was sitting; we spoke for a short minute, then got busy filling out his form. This brother couldn’t read. Not making a big issue over it, I filled out the paperwork from the info he gave me. Then I gave him clues on how to recognize what question was being asked on the form and we made a quick list of the answers that went with them; this way he could handle the next one on his own. Thanking me, he got up from his chair and headed over to get in line to see a rep. Before I could join him, another individual came up and asked if I could help them. By the time I was able to take care of my own form I had helped five different people. At home that evening I thought about those people and their short coming of not being able to read. I won’t lie, I’ve always felt a little pride in helping others, but this time all I felt was sadness. You see there was a time I could relate to their situation. As a child, I never learned to read until I was 12 years old. I would look at books trying to get an idea what the words were saying from pictures on the pages. I memorized a handful of words that gave me some understanding, but for the most part the written language was a deep mystery to me. I could remember how insufficient and insecure I felt that I didn’t understand like the rest of my classmates. Those feelings of being less than everyone else stayed with me, that is until an earthly angle in the form of a substitute teacher named Esther Cobb took an interest in me and discovered the secret that so many had missed. Knowing how I felt about myself, I remember her saying to me, “Sweetheart, you’re not dumb, you just don’t have the tools to understand. And we’re going to fix that!”

For the next two years I went to Esther’s home once, and sometimes twice a week to learn letters, what and how they came together to make words. It was a slow process, but over time magic occurred. The mumble rumble mess of letters on a page became words, words became sentences, and sentences became stories that drew vivid pictures in my mind. I began a quest of reading everything I could get my hands on with William Campbell Gault’s books on sports and racing being my favorite. When Sweet Mrs. Cobb used her patience, understanding and care to unlock the door to understand reading, the world seemed to take on a more positive perspective in my life. I am so thankful for what that dear saint did for me; she gave me tools and understanding to believe in myself. I could never repay Esther for what she did for me, but I don’t believe she would have wanted me to anyway. I feel she took her reward in knowing she unlocked the door of understanding to someone she believed in.

When I first approached Christianity, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense either. It seems like a whole list of rules that were impossible to follow. But I had to, if I was to keep what I saw as an angry God from rejecting me. It wasn’t until caring people showed me that God wasn’t angry and that He loved me. Loved me so much He sent His Son to take the penalty of sin in place of me.

Romans 6:23 – For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.   John 3:16 – For God so loved the world that he gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.                   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.

When the door was unlocked to understanding that the Lord was not a God of anger and hate, but One of love, the whole knowledge of how He saw me was unlocked, the mystery and the veil were gone.

Jerry Bridges: “God’s unfailing love for us is an objective fact affirmed over and over in the Scriptures. It is true whether we believe it or not. Our doubts do not destroy God’s love, nor does our faith create it. It originates in the very nature of God, who is love, and it flows to us through our union with His beloved Son.”

As Esther Cobb said to me, God says to each of us, “Dear One, I’m not looking to throw you out, I’m wanting to love you. You just don’t understand that love, but I’m willing and waiting to show you.”

The door to the Heavenly Father may appear locked, but Jesus is the key to open it widely and gladly. Amen?

Going back to my original thought, let me finish with this. Occasionally when I’m sitting at the desk down in my studio, I reach into a drawer where I keep diplomas and achievement awards I’ve earned from institutions of higher education. I’m not that impressed with them anymore. They’re nice to have but truthfully, if I took those and $5 over to Micky D’s it would could get me a Happy Meal! But I am glad I was able to earn them, especially when you think about how late I began my understanding of education. And on those occasions, I sometimes picture a certain “Traveler of Rock Road.” A sweet old girl who saw something when others didn’t. At those moments I can almost hear her words, “You see Honey, I told you, you were not dumb. I knew it, God knew it, and now you know it. I am so proud of you.”

‘nuf said.

See ya next time.

Yes, friends and family, if you ever want to become fully awake at 2 in the morning, have someone point a double barrel shotgun in your face! Now that I have your attention, here we go.

It was many years back, B.C. (Before Children), I had just arrived home after a long shift at work; Cathy was back in Ohio visiting family. After a long evening of working I was relaxing on the couch watching a little TV when there was a knock. Opening the door, I found myself face to gun, with my neighbor on the other end, face pale and eyes darting back and forth. “John, did you hear a noise outside?” “Yeah! It was me getting home from work!” “Oh, that’s a relief.” And he popped open the gun and took the shells out. “Well, goodnight,” and he turned to leave. I quickly grabbed on to his shoulder and stood there quietly as I considered, do I want to speak to him, or do I want to beat him to an inch of life while the gun was unloaded! I chose the less messy path. “Friend, I don’t care what you hear, screams, crashes or an all-out firefight, don’t you ever come over here again with a gun!” He got the message.

The next day when I was calmer, and my neighbor was less rattled, we talked, and I learned a whole lot about the gentleman. It became evident he had a great fear of the unknown. He was in constant worry of what might happen and felt he needed to always be on his guard. He wouldn’t take the newspaper in fear of the paper being tore up before he could bring it in to the house. He wouldn’t go to an amusement park in fear of getting stuck or killed on a rollercoaster. If someone said something he didn’t like or made him wonder if they meant something else, he would avoid them. Another neighbor invited him to start jogging in the morning with him. He feared he might do something like sprain his ankle, then he’d have to take time off from work which would cause financial hardship on him or even worse, lose his job. Okay, I think you get a pretty good picture of this nervous Ned. So, I’m going to get right to my point.

Charles Spurgeon once said, “The worst evils of life are those which do not exist except in our imagination.” How often have any of us worried about a predicament, that as we mused on the situation became larger than life, only to have it not materialize? In this man’s opinion, fear is one of the biggest cripplers I’ve seen in many lives, and yes, at times yours truly included. I’ve seen individuals with great talents that will not expose them to others because of fear. “If you listen to your fears, you will die never knowing what a great person you might have been.” Robert H. Schuller

Certain matters of misfortune eventually invade all of us, there’s no denying that. But do we help the situation by allowing fear to consume our very being? “The presence of fear does not mean you have no faith. Fear visits everyone. But make your fear a visitor and not a resident.”  Max Lucado

For the Christian, fear really should not be the frontrunner in our lives. No matter what, we have a Heavenly Father who cares for us no matter what we’re going though. There’s no promise tragedy won’t happen, but there’s the promise of God he’ll be right there for us.

Joshua 1:9 “I repeat, be strong and brave! Don’t be afraid and don’t panic, for I, the Lord your God, am with you in all you do.”

Psalm 23:4 “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

When we left the neighborhood, I never saw my nervous “Traveler of the Rock Road” again, I can only pray life got better for him and fear no longer ruled his world. And friends, if you’re living like that I’m not criticizing you; remember I said I was once there also, so I feel your pain. But I’m also saying there’s an escape from that dreaded emotion if you’re willing to trust Him who said, “I’ll never leave or forsake you.”

That’s all I have on this subject today, but I’m attaching a video by a young man named Zach Williams whose song really brings the truth of fear home.

Blessings Friends and Family

See ya next time.