The Guest of Honor

I love the holidays, and I do enjoy many of the nostalgic traditions that go with it. For me it all starts on Thanksgiving morning. I sleep in a little, and get up to a good cup of coffee and pass a glance every now and then to the parades on TV. I remember watching them as a child while Mom prepared the turkey for our afternoon feast. After watching a few floats, I'll usually play my guitar for a couple of hours during which time I'll occasionally make a joke or comment about some goofy song and dance number going on in front of Macy's. This year wasn't very different, but I couldn't help but feel troubled in my spirit as I saw the bands and dancers stopping on the star and enjoying a few seconds of the spotlight. I don't know why it hasn't occurred to me before, but I couldn't miss the striking and complete absence of the very heart of Thanksgiving and Christmas as I watched the parades. There were obligatory references by the hosts to "giving thanks," but an awkward silence about to Whom we are to be thankful. It was so glaring to me that I imagine if Katie Couric would have said the name Jesus, censors would have bleeped it out thinking she was using profanity. Sadly, it seems that, in any context, the name of our Lord if uttered in the public arena has become considered profane. The old mantra of separation of church and state has slowly been extended to imply separation of church and and all things public, even Christmas. The exclamation point came at the announcement that the guest of honor had arrived...Santa Claus. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against the jolly old elf, but last I checked the holiday we celebrate every December 25th is not called Clausmas. It appears there is still no room in the inn all these years later.

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I have a great vacation trip, and lots of fun activities planned for my family this Christmas, but I pray that like the shepherds watching their flocks by night, we will not miss the true Guest of Honor this Christmas. And to do my small part, let me echo the words from another of our family's favorite Christmas traditions, A Charlie Brown Christmas, as Linus recites this little reminder about the true meaning of Christmas from Luke 2: 8-14

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them,
Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

Merry Christmas

Nathan's Official Blog!

Hello friends. I'm pleased to announce that Nathan now has his own blog! We just got home from hiking a section of the Swamp Fox Trail today, and I thought it would be nice to have him share some of his thoughts on our outings. So, rather than me relaying his thoughts, or having him as a "guest blogger," I've helped him set up a site to share his thoughts directly with you while developing his writing skills, and building a library of personal memories.

A few years ago, I was fortunate enough to get my hands on my scoutmaster's scrapbooks from my old scouting days. I scanned each photo and created a music video spanning five years of my scouting experience. I was even able to make copies and share the video with a couple of my friends from the old days, and it is a treasure. I hope to help Nathan create something similar, but in addition to the photos, I believe the journal will add a whole new dimension to documenting these fleeting, but important, days to remember.

Please feel free to visit and comment on Nathan's site at: http://nathanscout.blogspot.com/ I'll encourage him to post often, and I'm sure he'll have plenty of adventures to share!

The Hope Diamond

A couple of years back, Nathan and I went to the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History in Washington, DC. We took in with awe the countless fossils that document the history of the world. We gazed at shark teeth, moon rocks and meteorites, all of which are memorable, but one item remains as set apart in our memory as it is in the museum; one of the world's most prized gem stones, the Hope Diamond.
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It truly is an inspiring wonder to behold. God created this stone ages ago and hid it in the earth where it waited until its time had come. In the 17th century, God revealed this treasure to man challenging him to work with skilfull hands to uncover its true value. It was first crudely cut into the shape of a triangle shortly after its discovery in India's Kollur mine. A Frenchman named Jean-Baptiste Tavernier obtained the stone around 1660 and it was later obtained by King Louis XIV and fashioned into a pendant of immeasureable value. During the French Revolution the stone was stolen and cut into two pieces. Now only 45 of the original 115 carats have survived history. Still, the value of the remaining gem was considerable, and thanks to the gifted hands of master jewelers such as Pierre Cartier, the value has been restored to a respectable, if not admittedly diminished, level of the original French Blue.

The very name "Hope Diamond" brings to mind another prized treasure that God has bestowed upon man. A diamond in the rough, this great nation, America, was revealed to our forefathers over two centuries ago. Master jewelers such as Jefferson, Adams, Washington, and later, Lincoln, set about cutting and setting this precious gem that would later become a prize set apart from all others. It was a long, painstaking and costly process to create this masterpiece, but God gave us skilfull stewards with a God-steadied hand to cut the facets that would add value to the stone. Sometime soon after the facets of emancipation and suffrage were cut, a shining, brilliant masterpiece emerged unrivaled in human history. This priceless jewel served to protect the freedom bestowed upon us by God alone.

Of late, the last 46 years or so, it has been the desire of many in this country for our masterpiece to undergo change. Aside from an overdue needed facet of civil rights, much of this change has been to the detriment of our own value. Our schools have traded prayers for guns, and our homes have traded families for single parents. We've traded babies for the convenience of choice, and exchanged our churches for entertainment pursuits. Our masterpiece has been abused and I wonder if we're not seeing the beginning of an even greater fall from grace as a nation. Still, my hope is in the Lord. My prayer is that God Himself will restore and reset our diamond, and that He will harden the stone so that it may never again be cut carelessly; that He will steady the hand of any jeweler entrusted with the care of such a treasure; and that if it is stolen and/or damaged, that He, our Hope and the only hope of the world, will hear from heaven and restore our land, America.

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"Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD." Psalm 31:24

The Ashley By Morn

Here's a little poem I wrote a little while back while sitting within sight of the Ashley River. I was inspired after reading Robert Burns's beautiful Sweet Afton, as well as breathing in deeply the cool November morning, low country air.

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The Ashley By Morn

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Gentle is your way by morn among thy sweetgrass green. Your banks are bathed by ringlets warm, so delicate and serene. And rising low above thy tide, a shroud of misty air. A cloak of grey doth all but hide the light of dawn so fair. The shadows that rise like secrets you keep holding night beyond its end...Are but arms of oak that arch and weep, dripping moss like tears of men. Across your reeds the stillness subsides as November breathes her last. And rising with thy sifting tides, your song of twilight has passed. A lingering mist bodes sweet farewell as it clings in final embrace. 'Til lifting as gently as the virgin's veil to reveal your shimmering face. So swiftly comes the heron white to grace among your reeds; To glide where once was only night and walk where waters recede. And there he waits 'til morning's end, a guardian of thy shores; Then leaves when first comes autumn's wind, the coming of night once more. Gentle is your way by morn, your promise doth remain; When shadows fade and light is born above your banks again.

The Pocket Knife

We'd hiked nearly a third of the way up the mountain. I was starting to realize that either Table Rock had grown steeper since my ascent 20 years ago, or that my stamina was not what it used to be. I've come to the conclusion that it's amazing how much a mountain can grow in only 20 years... Anyway, the boy scouts and I were still on the first leg of the hike, and "some of us" were feeling a little winded, so we picked a spot by a huge boulder, took off our packs and enjoyed the morning air. My son, Nathan, was with me, and one of the other scouts, also named Nathan, was bursting at the seams with an energy supply from where I cannot imagine. Big Nathan, as we call him, decided to scale the boulder while we were taking in the scenery. He darted from one edge to the other, and at one point proclaimed that he had found a pocket knife at a well worn resting spot along the rock surface. He brought it down, and sure enough, some hiker had left the knife probably after cutting up an apple on a break. "Lucky find," we all thought and soon mounted up and went on our way toward the summit.

I hadn't really thought much more about that knife until one evening not long ago I caught a show on one of the science channels about the dinosaurs. The narrator, matter of factly, informed the viewer that these incredible creatures had evolved separate lines from one common cell in the depths of our great oceans. The concept that something had "created" the creature or even created the cell never even merited a single thought. No, scientists luckily found evidence of the dinosaur preserved in fossilized stone, and their resounding conclusion is that the giants appeared by adding random chance with random elements against the backdrop of billions of years. What an incredible faith they have!

Back to the knife. I can't help but wonder how many scientists would come to a similar conclusion upon finding Big Nathan's knife. Could not nature, given random chance, elements and time litter the earth with various steak knives, fishing knives, carving knives, etc.? Truth is, the very idea of nature producing such objects without intelligent direction is ludicrous by any reasonable standard. Nathan knew what he'd found; he had found a knife. There is no doubt, zero, none, that it was lost by another hiker. No reasonable person would seriously argue that this simple, inanimate object made by the hand of man could ever be produced by random chance, elements and time. The knife cannot speak, still through its design, it proclaims the existence of its creator. How much more can that be said of the astonishing complexity of the living creature? Are we to believe that by chance that which the mind of man cannot even conceive and hand of man cannot duplicate, simply came to be? Simply said, this cannot be.

All of creation proclaims the existence of its Creator. The creation is His, the design is His, we are His, and of this there is no doubt!

"For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse." Romans 1:20

Legends of the Fall

Fall is one of my favorite times of the year. Crisp nights, red leaves, corn stalks browning in the field all inspire the warmest feelings inside me. Just thinking about it makes me want to go to Cracker Barrel and have an apple dumpling by the fire. Fall comes a little later in the low country, so we've traveled up to the mountains of North Carolina and Tennessee twice already this month just to shop for apples and sample the leaves. The first trip was up to Hendersonville where we stopped at a farm store called GrandDad's Apple Farm. They had the BEST mulled cider and fried apple pies. Nathan enjoyed me pulling him around the pumpkins in one of the store's wagons; even our dog, Nienna, enjoyed the change of scenery.

On the way back down, we stopped in Edneyville, NC. My ancestors, the Lyda's, on my Mom's side founded that little mountain apple farming community back in the 1800's. The old stone church, St Paul's Episcopal, still stands serenely in the valley. Across the road is a small cemetery surrounded by apple orchards. I took Nathan there to see where his great-great grandfather, Mark Lafayette Lyda and great-great grandmother, Minerva Lyda are buried. A few stones down the row we came upon Mark's father's, Isaac Monroe Lyda, white stone marker. It identifies him as a Confederate soldier who fought with the 25th NC Infantry in the Civil War. Within sight of Isaac Monroe's stone is an obelisk marking the graves of Nathan's great-great-great-great grandfather and grandmother, Jacob and Annie Lyda. On the stone is a memorial to his stature at the time of his death in 1860; the words "The Pioneer" are nobly engraved under his name for posterity to know of his significance to the community. I only learned about that line of my family as an adult, so it was a wonderful thing to be able to share with pride this heritage with Nathan. We also stopped by there this past weekend with Kristin, so hopefully a tradition of honoring our heritage in this way has been sewn anew for the next generation.

This past Monday, we drove up to Nashville for a couple of days. I've been slowly plugging away on an instrumental guitar project featuring some of my favorite hymns. I'm working with an amazing Nashville session bassist, Dave Pomeroy, and we are recording the project in his studio. It's been a long time coming, but I'm finally starting to get to the post-recording phase, at least where I'm concerned. I may call in some musician help on a couple of songs, and there's the mixing and mastering stage, not to mention the duplication stage that's still a little beyond the horizon, but I can say that progress has been made enough to where I'm starting to get a little excited. I'll post more on it as it finally takes shape, but any prayers out there for the project are greatly desired and appreciated!

In other music happenings, I was blessed to play the prelude music for my lovely cousin, Kristin's and her new husband, Russell's, wedding at the beautiful Second Presbyterian in downtown Charleston. Congratulations to you both and a special thanks to Pam and Bubba for asking me to be a part of your special day! Thanks also to my daughter, Kristin, for setting up the two Starbucks in-store events...I really enjoyed it!

On the way back down from Nashville, we spent the night in Gatlinburg and retraced our steps through Edneyville again as I mentioned before. Kristin made the trip too, so except for Marcus, we were all together. Marc's over at our place today watching Shrek and listening to music when he's not devising plans to raid the pantry! I try to not take for granted any of these precious times when we can all be together whether we're driving through the mountains or just sitting around watching SpongeBob on a rainy afternoon. I know that if I'm not careful, I can work and plan for happiness my whole life and miss the gift that I have right in front of me. One of the things I like about blogging is that it gives me a moment to pause and thank the Lord for all I've been given.

Enjoy the season as we enter soon the formal time of Thanksgiving. I'll have to let Nathan tell you about our October camping trip soon. I'll leave most of it to him, but as a preview I'll share that he earned his first merit badge!

24,668,328,000 Miles

...is, as of this past Sunday morning, about how far I've traveled through space considering the earth has been traveling at a rate of 67,000 miles per hour around the sun for the last 42 years plus 11 leap days. I don't know why I think about such things. Come to think of it, I remember celebrating my 1 billionth second on earth back in 1997. I had calculated the day years before, and it came to mind that somewhere about the time of 31 years and 171 days, give or take, if I remember correctly, one arrives at their billionth second point. I think I even broke it down to the hour...try as I may, I have no recollection of what second I was born, and no one seems to be able to help me with that.

Sorry 'bout that... Okay, back to earth now. In addition to my space travel milestone Sunday morning, here's a little run down of our September highlights:

Nathan and I had another Boy Scout camp out at Huntington Beach State Park up near Myrtle Beach a couple of weeks ago. Nathan had lots of firsts getting to touch a live king snake and a small alligator. And, despite a can of Deep Woods Off, we both provided plenty of nourishment to the park mosquitoes. It was a fun campout on the whole.

Thanks to a friend's kind recommendation, I had a neat opportunity to play guitar at a lovely 5 star resort last Friday night at The Sanctuary resort on Kiawah Island. I was set up in the Ocean Room where they had a fire place and breathtaking window views of the Atlantic.

And to end the month right, we had a lovely day today out at Drayton Hall. It's one of those charming plantations on the Ashley River that was built when George Washington was only 6 years old. The best part was that Kristin was off today, and she made it seem like old times with the family enjoying a day outing.

In the midst of all the political turmoil and economic uncertainty upon us right now, I was reminded of a wonderfully comforting thought Sunday by our pastor. He reminded us that for those who love the Lord, our future lies not in the hands of politicians and economists, but in the hands of Jesus. This is the future I want for my family, and for you! Until then, let's log a few more space miles together orbiting the sun until He comes to take us to a place where wonders exists beyond the imagining hearts of man!

Adventure on Lake Moultrie

By Special Guest Blogger, Nathan Miller

Hello my name is Nathan. I am 11-years-old.

We had to leave by 6:00PM to go to Camp Moultrie. We didn't get there til 7:15PM. I helped make the tents. By 10:20, I've got ready for bed. At midnight, I tented with my patrol leader, Colton.

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By 6:30AM, I got up. My dad got up at 6:45AM. We had dutch oven quiche. Later that day, we went sailing. My dad, Mr. Randall, and I had an over flowing, and the boat turned over and we all fell out. I felt a little scared. We were all wearing life jackets, and we were okay.

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Later that day I played frisbee with my dad, and viking sword game with the boys. We left Sunday morning after eating bagels and having a devotion. I'm looking forward to next month camping trip.

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Nathan

July 4, 1994

We had just moved to San Angelo, Texas, and on a whim, I decided to take my daughter, Kristin, down to the River Stage by the Concho River. It was July 4th and we sat on the grass and listened to Souza and Gershwin tunes. The ground shook with the cannons of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at the Pops concert, and the fireworks rose up into the night, raining back down into the river. Afterwards we walked over the bridge hand in hand to the carnival they had set up and rode the Scrambler ride. Walking back to the car, my little girl looked up at me and told me that it was the best day of her life. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought thinking to myself how only an 8 year old would think that music, fireworks and a carnival qualify as a "best day of your life" moment. Looking back now, I realize that I left out the most important part...my daughter valued her time with me above every experience she could recall to date. I hardly deserved it, but through clearer eyes, I can now look back and offer Kristin a belated, "yeah, I know exactly what you mean." Happy Independence Day...I love you Kristin!

Nathan Climbs a Mountain

It's been 25 years or better since, as a scout, I climbed the 3,124 feet that make up Table Rock mountain. As a high school cross country team runner, I was in pretty good shape back then. Even still, I remember huffing and puffing at a few points along the trail that are like a stairmaster gone wild. Well, God is good, and He's let me re-live those days; this time with my son, Nathan. Yes, Nathan is now a Boy Scout in Troop 750, and I'm one of his assistant scout masters! There's nothing like a second go around.

Nathan's first outing as a Boy Scout was officially the Friday before Memorial Day. We met other troop members at the Brownsville Cemetery in Summerville, and placed a flag on every grave bearing U.S. military service credentials. Several Cub Scouts were present as well, and it was a wonderful way to introduce Nathan to the heart of Boy Scouting by combining service to others with duty to country. It rained a little as we searched the grounds looking for those who had served our nation and had passed on. It was also the most appropriate way I can think of to start a weekend of Memorial Day scouting.

Saturday morning, we met at the church around 6:00am with packs full and excitement mounting. When everyone arrived, we packed up and hit the road to Table Rock State Park. Once there, the less experienced crew set up camp while those scouts who ranked First Class and higher set out on an overnight backpacking trip. It was great to see Nathan experiencing all these firsts...setting up a tent, carrying a pack, and making smores by the fire. Above right is a pic of Nathan with his new friend and fellow Phoenix Patrol member, Thomas, all smiles as they embarked on this challenging but fun journey to the mountain.

The next morning we set off on our hike up the mountain. Nathan carried his own lunch and water in a day pack, and trodded right along with the boys. Without exception, the boys in the troop are great. They all meet Nathan where he's at, and include him in on things. A couple of them signed him off on his requirements for his Scout badge, and helped him come out of his shell a bit. I tried to take a back seat and let the boys work with Nathan wherever practical, and I think he responded very well. We saw a black snake, salamander and butterflies along the trail, and slowly made it to the top. It was a lot harder for me than when I was young and just bounded up the trail, but it was a lot sweeter watching Nathan earn his way up that mountain.

At the top, one of the scouts, Billy, read the passage where Nicodemus came to Jesus wanting to know how to get to the Kingdom of Heaven. Billy read where Jesus explained that we must be "born again," to enter into God's Kingdom. I couldn't help but think back on all the lifesaving courses I'd sat through as a Boy Scout. They taught us how to give CPR, how to recognize and treat hypothermia, how to get off the mountain, out of the river, and even through wilderness alive. I even earned merit badges in orienteering, pioneering and wilderness survival. All valuable lessons to be sure, but Billy here explained the most important lesson of all...how to get out of life alive through Jesus. He just read a simple little leaflet, and spoke a few words, but the value of what he shared was profound. I hope that when the folks present think back on the breath taking beauty of that rock above the clouds, they recall the moment when directions were given to everlasting life.

Last night, we had our first meeting since the trip, and it was a Court of Honor. All the boys who hiked the mountain received a certificate documenting their achievement. Several of the boys received merit badges and their next rank. And, Nathan received his first rank, Scout. Of all the badges I received in my scouting, none compare to the satisfaction of watching my little man earn his first rank. Thanks for letting me share my pride in his accomplishment and offer this congratulations to Nathan and his fellow scouts.

Short Thought on Faithfulness and Success

I recently heard a story of a U.S. Senator who once asked Mother Teresa during a visit to one of her Calcutta hospitals, “How can you bear the load without being crushed by it?” Mother Teresa replied, “My dear Senator, I am not called to be successful, I am called to be faithful.” Mother Teresa couldn't "heal," but she could tend to those in need all the while hoping for God's blessing upon her work.

Everyday life is no different. I was working in the yard the other day looking at bare patches that need seeding, and the thought occured to me that plant as many seeds as I may, I cannot make one blade of grass grow. Sure, I can sew a seed in the ground, but it is God who does the miracle.

In short, assured success for my own efforts is not within my power to claim. Faithfulness, however is within my grasp. I believe that just as a good farmer is faithful to plant, water, cultivate, and pray for the miracle, we too should be faithful tending to the garden we're given and trusting in the good harvest that is solely His to give.

Bone Digging for Ancient Treasure

Long before the Coosa Indians fished for catfish or hunted deer along the banks of the Ashley; even before the now extinct mammoth foraged for food in the open fields of the low country, a terror of unimaginable proportions swam and hunted prey in the waters covering lands where now cities, such as Charleston, bustle and small communities like our own Flowertown in the Pines now serenely showcase azaleas and crape myrtles. The oceans' answer to T-Rex literally surged just feet above my own backyard. The illustration top right is artist Karen Carr's rendition, from the Virginia Museum of Natural History, of the mighty Carcharodon Megalodon chasing two juvenile whales. These creatures would feed on whales, porpoises and just about anything brave, foolish or just unlucky enough to share its fondness for the warm coastal areas of the continent.

To give you an example of just how large these by-gone creatures of the deep actually were,

check out this graph, courtesy of Wikipedia, on the right . The li'l green fellow is our old nemisis from the 70's, Jaws; the little guy in front of him would be the equivalent of Captain Quint, and the red giant lurking in the back would be the ancient history of my own backyard otherwise known as "Meg." Now there is much of so-called scientific "fact" that I must admit I roll my eyes to, and place in the "until a more accurate fact emerges" category, but I do know one thing; this creature existed, and that it lived where I now sit even as I write this blog. God left us proof, and gave us a mighty cool hobby in the process.

Now that you know how awesome these guys were, maybe I won't seem as much the geek, that

I probably am, when I share my enthusiasm for them. Nathan and I have logged hundreds of hours scouring excavations,

"bone digging" as we call it, for the ancient remnants of these giants. We've found dozens of different kinds of shark teeth, great white, mako, tiger, goblin, and occasionally, the elusive meg tooth. We also find whale vertebrae, stingray barbs, aligator teeth and even rare indian artifacts on a couple of outings. Above you can see Nathan digging for fossils at a site not far from the Ashley River.

It's such a thrill to find a tooth still partially covered knowing you're the first human to ever lay eyes then hands on it. Here's one I found a couple of weeks ago. You can see part of the root sticking out, and you just don't know how much of the tooth has been preserved until you excavate. In this case, the entire tooth was perfectly fossilized.

On the right is just a small sampling of the treasures we've unearthed. Nathan gets a first hand science education, with a little adventure to boot. He's even found some fossils valuable enough to earn him a little money for his efforts. I have a growing museum of natural history, and a healthy hobby for my efforts, but any sunny afternoon spent treasure hunting with my son is already treasure found.

Psalms 24:1 "The earth is the LORD's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein."

Matthew 6:21 "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

Listen to His Heart

What is your heart telling you? Listen to your heart! Follow your heart! Trust your instincts. Your heart holds the key, and so on.... I can't count how many times I've heard these well intended words. It sounds like sage advice, and is always portrayed as such in scores of sitcoms and movies. Picture the scene; a young woman is confused about two men...the one she's engaged to is stable, ambitious and maybe a little self-centered, the other is a bumbling, one pay check from homeless guy who looks suspiciously like Adam Sandler. Her dad loves the first, and hates the second, but the wise mom somehow knows the plot as well as we do. At the critical point, she steps in to advise the young lady with these words..."what is your heart telling you?" Of course we all know that Sandler gets the girl even if the other guy is perfect, not to mention, there first. And, of course her heart led her to true happiness. Sandler raises one eyebrow at the camera, gives a knowing smile...roll credits.

There's just one tiny little problem. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" Jeremiah 17:9 Can we even trust our own instincts? I'm afraid not. Proverbs 16:25 tells us that "there is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." I can testify to this truth because there have been times when I've felt bitterly discouraged. In those times my heart has told me to despair, to give up, stay down...quit. Other times my heart has told me to throw caution to the wind, pursue vanity, and not let anyone get in the way of what I want. The times I've given an obedient ear to the demands of my own heart apart from God account for my portion of regrets.

What are we to do with a wicked heart? The Bible instructs us to first prepare our hearts to seek the Lord. In fact we are told in 2 Chronicles 12:14 that King Rehoboam "did evil, because he prepared not his heart to seek the Lord." The flip side is that those who seek the Lord with all their heart...find Him. Jeremiah 29:13 assures of this with this promise, "and ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart." For me this means that I have to lay down the desires of my heart, and instead seek after the desires of His heart. As you might imagine, pride wants its own way, and yielding to the still small voice of the Lord is no easy task. I find myself wanting to have it both ways; "God, I'll follow so long as You're going my direction." The simple truth is that I can't follow and lead at the same time. I can't simultaneously hang onto those old desires and seek Him with my whole heart. It just doesn't work that way. I'm finding out that, just as I had long feared, His desires rarely match my own, and His ways are not my ways. But the closer I get to His heart, the more I can see the rubbish that was my old heart.

To know the Lord is to know that He alone knows the right path to walk. Believing this is the beginning of trust. As the old hymn goes, T'is so sweet to trust in Jesus...oh for grace to trust Him more. This is my prayer, that as I trade my heart for His, God will fill me with greater trust, and when the path isn't clear, when I'm lost and confused, I can find my way by asking the simple question, "What is HIS heart heart telling me?"

Diligo Diem - Value Highly the Day

There's an old cliche that goes something like "happiness is a journey, not a destination." I believe it is true; still I find myself too often looking toward the horizon focusing on distant glimmering lands that may very well be mirages for all I know. Only when I think of days gone by am I reminded that today is the stuff of dreams.

I can't tell you how many times I've looked at old photos and felt a longing to re-live those moments now regarded with their clearer, hind-sight value in mind. The photo on the right is such a time. It was Springtime in Charleston, and I was on a weekend trip with the Boy Scouts. I'm second from left in the back, and next to me on the left of the frame is one of my very best friends to this day, Danny Holbert. Jerry Burns is squinting in the middle next to Victor Robinson and Tim Watson in the back right. In my memory, the sun shines a little brighter, and the clouds ease by more full and white. Occasionally, I hear a song on the radio, or smell the sea on the air and it all comes back. I was experiencing life for the first time in so many ways, yet unaware of the profundity of each experience. I knew we were having fun, but I didn't know just how iconic such a moment would prove in the way I view so much of my youth.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon in downtown Charleston with my family. We walked up East Bay and down to the Waterfront Park. Bobbi gleefully pointed out the dolphins playing in the harbor suggesting that they had waited for her arrival before beginning their performance. I played along mimicking a showman directing attention to stage left in the harbor. Nathan and I found an open swing to enjoy the view while Kristin braced against the stiff March breeze on a nearby bench. Afterward, we walked up to Market Street for dinner and then back down Church Street to complete the loop. The Spring flowers were vibrantly in bloom, and despite all the slights of a nostalgic mind, I'm sure the sun shone as brightly as it ever has. The whole afternoon was just a spur of the moment kind of thing. I'm not anymore successful or distinguished than I was yesterday morning, but in a way, I am richer...it just takes a little reflection time to realize it.

I'm reminded that everyday has such potential. True, I can't always go take a stroll through a garden spot in the sun, but I can, and should, weigh the value of time spent with the ones I love. Life is now and it should be highly valued as a precious gift from God.

Psalm 118:24 "This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

A Time of Joy

It's been nearly 25 years since this photo was taken. In fact, it was April 29, 1983, and it was the very first date I ever had with my yet to be bride, Bobbi Kaufman. The pic brings back so many memories. It was our first prom and we were only 16 years old. Yes, Bobbi does look a little like Princess Di doesn't she? I, unfortunately, look a little like Prince Charles. :-/

I remember nervously going to her door with corsage in hand, and being greeted by a little fireball boston terrier named Precious. This little dog could jump up over 5 feet from the floor and lick your face before you knew what had happened. It was also the day I would meet my future mother-in-law, Kay Kaufman.

Kay was born in Curlew, Iowa on June 2, 1938. She had a dry sense of humor, like her carpenter father, Harold Ward, and she would take 30 minutes to eat a piece of toast...buttering every bite while she kept the family and the past close at hand with one anecdote after another. There is so much that can be said about Kay; she suffered with crohns' disease since the age of 16, enduring dozens of life threatening surgeries and outliving doctors' predictions by decades. To hug her was to hold a tiny lady in your arms. Her child-sized frame was accented by her perfect posture, and her manners were regal, but her most defining characteristic was her faith in Christ.

To know Kay was to know the heart of an apostle. To talk with Kay was to have before you the living scriptures, and one who cared for your very soul. I recall that afternoon in April when we first met. We hardly had exchanged niceties before she inquired as to my faith. Now, many might mistakenly think this was simply a mom sizing up a potential suiter for her daughter...well maybe just a little, but you should know she did that to everyone. My soul would've been equally important to her if we had met in a grocery store checkout line.

Kay endured more than just physical challenges with a grace I can only aspire to in this life. When asked about her own desire for healing, she responded as the apostle Paul stating, "His grace is sufficient." Her patience and faith became even more remarkable later in life when she underwent years of dialysis treatments, advanced chemotherapy for recurring cancers, and an almost unthinkable regimen of medications. Still, she glowed with the joy of the Lord.

Kay went on to her reward just a week before last Christmas. She had asked that her service not be about us, but "all about Him," and it was. The pastor recounted her faithfulness with a joy that can only be explained by the blessed assurance of salvation that a life such as Kay brings to all who knew her. He extended an invitation at the end of her celebration service, and 5 people responded and were saved for the Kingdom of Heaven. Never have I known such joy during a time of loss. Never before have I known a sweeter sadness. They say that the Angels rejoice when a lost soul finds the way home. Perhaps we felt their joy over the 5 that found the way home, and perhaps we felt the joy of the Lord as He held Kay in His arms.

Nathan by My Side

Hello again! I thought I'd introduce this little thought with a photo taken last week. It shows a guitar lesson I had with Nathan up in my music room. Nathan is now 10 years old. Most of you know that like his older brother, Marcus, Nathan also has autism. God always has blessings for us even in the midst of trials. I've learned to appreciate the unique beauty of people with disabilities. Nathan is different than most kids his age, but in the sweetest ways. He's brilliant, but has almost no ego about it outside of openly enjoying our smiles at his abilities. He learns to do difficult things, like fingerstyle guitar, because he doesn't know he can't, and his memory can be astonishing at times. He not only remembers every president by number, but he can tell you how tall they were in inches and feet. He knows their middle names and can list every president that had facial hair in the order that they served...I know, I know. He knows my CD collection too. I found out one morning at Hardees when "Fields of Gold" came on overhead, that he knows what track that song is on "The Very Best of Sting and the Police." Puzzled how he knew that, I asked a couple of questions and learned that "Englishman in New York" is track 3 and that it's 4 minutes and 25 seconds long. Funny thing is that he might not be able to tell you that he had a cheeseburger for lunch just 15 minutes ago or that 10 X 6 = 60. He can, however, quickly compute roughly how many miles are in 10 light years.

The next photo is Nathan with his sister, Kristin. He is openly affectionate with her and the rest of us. He'll cry if he thinks you're upset with him for any reason. He tells me he wants to be a Daddy and that his kids will call me Grand Daddy...and that he will marry Mommy. He was a bit disappointed to find out that it doesn't work quite like that...at least outside of Spartanburg County. ;-) The thing that gets me is that the proof of Nathan's autism lies not in what he can't do, but in what he doesn't do because of his innocence.

Last year, Nathan and I toured Washington DC for 3 days, and had a special time together with him that I'll always cherish. Here he is at Mount Vernon on the right. I learned a lot about him those three days. I learned how much he loves cold weather, and how much he enjoyed the simple fun of kicking ice with me down the sidewalks. I marveled that he was saddened, as if out of inate reverence, at the site of Washington's tomb and the President's box at Ford's Theater. I learned just how precious a couple of days can be just talking to, walking with and watching Nathan be my son.

I make a special effort to spend time every week and every day that God allows with Nathan. We've walked for days hunting shark teeth, journeyed many leagues servicing Li'L Cricket convenient stores together, wandered through art gallerys and coffee shops, and driven hundreds of miles for a two hour concert. Not a minute with him has been a waste in any way. I imagine God looks at His time with us in much the same way, and that He sees the beauty in us most when we grow to be who He intended us to be while simply walking by His side. We do well to make time for our Father and for each other often. Doing so spins the threads of precious moments into the blanket of a precious life, and what better to keep us warm.

Good News!

Hello friends. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my blog! To start this new blog, I feel it appropriate to start by sharing some good news. I was lead to this passage from1 Corinthians chapter 2:

1. And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. 2. For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 3. And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling. 4. And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power: 5. That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.

As I read these words, I'm reminded that I have no wisdom of my own to share with you. I only have what I've been given, and it is a blessing to share this with you. There are many men in this time that are wise in their own minds. Their words are designed to entice you with promised filled doctrines of earthly blessings and rewards. Paul placed little or no value on the things of this earth. He stated in Philippians 3:7-8 "But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ." He lost all things and eventually lost his life for the sake of Christ. Later in the same chapter, Paul contrasted his view with the prevailing worldly view when he wrote, "For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ."

I have to remind myself often not to lean on my own understanding, but instead seek after the wisdom of God. I also have to remind myself that my purpose is not to live for earthly reward, but to use what I've been given to serve the Kingdom of God without regard for the things of this world. I'm a proud U.S. Air Force veteran, but I'm prouder still to be a citizen of heaven. It is in this citizenship that I find peace when the peace and wisdom of men fail. God has made a way for us to be restored to Him, and all we have to do is respond to Him with all of our hearts by accepting the gift of His Son, Jesus.

This is GOOD NEWS! Thanks for letting me share it with you.
Keith