Keith Miller

The Lights of Marfa

2011-04-06T18:21:00.000-07:00

The evening of March 24, 2011, will always stand out as one of the more special evenings of my life. Bobbi, Nathan and I left out early the day before to drive up from Summerville, SC, to our destination in Nashville, TN. I packed up my clothes, grabbed my iPod, and looked down at the invitation in my hand as I walked out to the car. The cover of the card read, "Light up the night with one of the world's premier fingerstyle guitarists!" The inside of the card detailed the book launch party for Doyle Dykes's book, The Lights of Marfa, that we were setting out to attend. It was to be held at the Ford Theatre and Rotunda at the Country Music Hall of Fame. I was, and still am, overwhelmed with gratitude for the invitation. It was going to be a special getaway for the three of us, and I was going to get to spend some time with the greatest guitarist known to me, and his family. . -

I've known Doyle for over 13 years now. I first saw him perform at a convention center in San Angelo, Texas, around March of 1998. I'd already been playing guitar for 25 years at that time, but I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see and hear that night. All I can say is that when Doyle played, I felt the presence of the Lord. I'd never seen anything like it, and had never imagined God could use a musician in such a way. The music reverberated in my mind as I lay down that night. I was in a bit of a dazed state for a couple of days afterward. The whole process of getting to know Doyle and his daughters, Haley and Holli, could comprise an interesting blog all its own. All I can say is that God has ordained a friendship that includes plenty of memorable evenings, like the night the lights went out in Griffin, Georgia. Doyle was playing and there was a powerful storm like God's on percussion section playing in the sky. The power went out during Twin Six Shooters, and Doyle and Holli kept on playing even though we weren't convinced that a tornado wasn't about to uncover the building! Another evening, Doyle called me up on stage in front of a couple hundred seasoned guitar pickers and handed me his guitar. I played one of his tunes while he watched. My hands were trembling, but I was so moved by his kindness and confidence in me. Then there was the night I first met his mother, Martha and his father, Bubba Dykes. I was blessed to be able to thank them for encouraging their son in music and in the Lord, and express my gratitude for the impact he had made on me. Another night, we talked past closing at a Cracker Barrel about God, Guitars, daughters and Grandpa Jones. We looked around and the place had been closed for a half hour, and one of the bus boys was sitting patiently, looking our way as we sipped coffee oblivious to the time. I was at a Waffle House with him and Haley a little while back, and I imagined this must've been how he'd felt sitting across from Chet or Merle Travis. What an honor these times have been. In all, Doyle and his family have become very dear to me over the years, but man, can I digress?!!

All this said, I still never dreamed I'd be able to share in such a special occasion with my friend, guitar hero and brother in the Lord. When we arrived at the Hall of Fame, we milled around and I chatted with a friend, Jeff Fields, and his family who had drove up from Atlanta for the occasion. We had a chance to give Haley a quick greeting and then move into the Ford Theatre for the concert. While sitting down, I looked around the small, but impressive venue, and that's when I saw Ricky Skaggs walk in with his wife and sit down in the audience...the same audience I was in! "Okay, be cool, Keith," I thought. After all, it looked like no big deal to everyone else that Ricky Skaggs just casually walked in. No one accosted him with cameras or sharpies. I looked over to my left, and whispered, "hey BB, that looks like Kurt Listug from Taylor Guitars!" I recognized him from is column, Kurt's Corner, in Wood & Steel. "...and that's, Oh my goodness, Bobbi, that's Bob Taylor!" My voice was rising just a bit, and she patted me as if to remind me that I was to be a grown up in these situations. That's when I looked behind me and, great big ol' tall, cool, legendary Rock 'n Roll Hall of Famer, Rebel Rouser, himself, Duane Eddy walked in, and sat down behind us. That's when I called Kristin, and whispered that I thought I might be in need of medical attention. .

The concert was incredible! Retired Grand Ole Opry President, Bob Whittaker, offered a few words and introduced Doyle. Doyle's son, Caleb, joined him on Bridging the Gap with Dave Pomeroy, Andy Leftwich and Jimmy Capps backing them up. Doyle's daughter, Heidi, came up and told the White Rose For Heidi miracle from her perspective. Doyle presented her with a white rose, and though I could hardly see through my own misty eyes, I imagine everyone else was equally touched. Donnie Sumner of The Stamps and Elvis fame, came out and glorified God with a testimony and a song, I'd Rather Have Jesus. The song was a true story for Donnie as he had chosen to leave Elvis for the Lord. Doyle actually had made the same choice in 1972, when he felt the Lord's conviction in the form of the question, "which King are you going to play for?" Doyle faced the prospect of meeting with and possibly playing for Elvis on that same evening of conviction, and Doyle left the building...without Elvis. David Pack of Ambrosia, and Larry Carlton joined Doyle in Ambrosia's biggest hit, You're the Biggest Part of Me. Haley performed with her fiance, Jake Johnson, and their band, and were just wonderful. The music was world class, the venue was world class, and the audience was world class...what a blessing to be there. -

Afterward, we attended a reception where I got to wander around and eat cookies with Bob Taylor. Okay, now I'm just bragging! Seriously, it was cool getting to shake Duane Eddy's hand, and tell Bob Taylor how much I enjoy his guitars and his new book, Guitar Lessons, which I had just finished reading. The best part was to look over and see Doyle surrounded by his family and a room full of greats...all there to honor him. Doyle always honors the Lord, he always honors the military, guitar players, music lovers and even little ol' me, but this night was something extra special. Everyone there got to return a little bit of that honor to a man who had given so selflessly to so many. It was an honor all its own to be among the warm, friendly faces in the room there to congratulate their friend...my friend.

Finally, I now get to Doyle's book, The Lights of Marfa, and it is a wonderful read. It is one amazing story after another of a man who has the gift to see God's hand at work in his life and in the lives of others. He calls these God moments "lights" and likens them to the strange and beautiful phenomenon he witnessed in the desert one night in Marfa, Texas. The book has made me reflect on my own Lights of Marfa moments. And as I reflect, I see those lights even more numerous and more clearly, and I know they are from God. Doyle is one of those lights in my life, or maybe he's just a reflection of an even greater light. I've seen God at work in him, and I can say I've longed to be closer to the Lord for what I've seen. May that be said of us all.

Arizona Adventure - October 16 - 24, 2010

2010-10-26T14:33:00.000-07:00

It was Nathan's first plane ride, and the first time I've flown with my family. We departed Charlotte in the early afternoon, and Nathan's face was a mixture of excitement, and maybe a touch of anxiety, as the front landing gear gently pulled upward and the objects through the window became a passing blur. I knew the feeling because it all brought back my first flight from Atlanta to Utah at age 16. I know we've had a hundred years of flight, but there still seems to be something slightly unnatural about the whole thing. Nathan's nervousness quickly shifted to awe as he watched the Appalachian hillsides grow distant to resemble familiar scenes from Google Earth. Our first layover was in Dallas, and it surprised me at how quickly we arrived. We had dinner at TGIF in the terminal, and browsed the shops until time for our connection to Phoenix.

When we arrived, I looked down to note that my watch was now three hours off. We had just made a mad dash to catch the racing sunset, and had apparently just missed it. We were met at the airport by Bobbi's Dad, Bill, whom we all call Papa, and his wife, Nita. Then it was off to their home in Sun City just North of town. The ruggedly beautiful scenery of Phoenix and surrounding area would have to wait for the light of day the next morning.

We awoke early the next morning, or at least early for those living in Phoenix. The first thing I noticed was the back patio and yard. There was no grass to be seen, and the trees were well manicured orange trees. I sat out on the patio and had morning coffee, while we marveled at the hummingbirds, jack rabbits, cacti and rocks that defined the landscape. Bobbi, Nathan, Kristin and Papa joined me, map in hand, and proceeded to plan out our excursions for the next few days. Nathan entertained one and all with his ventriloquist dummy, Danny O'Day, and the rest of the day was pretty restful with only a brief trip to the local mall on the schedule.

Grand Canyon Day: The next morning we awoke and got our bags ready for an overnighter. When we left town the first thing I noticed were the mountains and giant suguaro cacti. Not yet out of town, and a coyote crossed the highway in front of us. I must confess that at 44 years old, not a whole lot of things make me feel the excitement I felt over adventures when I was a young, but this sensory bombardment was bringing back the magic. I was a kid again, and I will treasure that. Surprise was the order of the day; I had no idea what to expect. I'd always thought of Arizona as the place where Wile E. Coyote chased the roadrunner against a repeating backdrop of orange and red mesas, but that naive misconception was about to change. We started our ascent just a few miles out of town, and before we knew it, we were at 3000 feet and climbing. Our ears were popping, and the suguaro were no longer to be seen. In less than an hour we'd gone from rocks and cactus to trees and grassland. The mountains were impressive, rocky and imposing, and not just for a few miles, but for the entire trip. We continued to climb until suddenly there was a break in the mountains revealing an overlook into a valley. I could see for miles and the view was breathtaking. We drove further until I saw a brown National Monument sign for the Montezuma Castle. This site features the remains and ruins of the cliff dwelling Sinagua (Si-nah-wah) indians. They carved these homes into the high cliffs above, and came down to farm the lower lands each day. No one knows where they came from or where they went, but they disappeared about 700 years ago. These ruins were at least that old, and they were amazing. I stood there just gazing at this would be cover of a National Geographic in awe and great admiration for this lost people. I bought Papa the senior discount card for $10, and it turned out to be the best investment I could've possibly made. It got us into every National Park and monument at no extra charge! We saved $10 bucks right away and another $25 later that day. We were all impressed with the unplanned stop, and the historic and scenic treasure we'd just witnessed. From there we took a road west off of Hwy 17N towards Sedona. Everyone had told us to visit, but we really didn't know why. Honestly, I wanted to go because my favorite guitarist, Doyle Dykes, thought so much of the place that he named his signature amp, Sedona. Hey, if Doyle thought that much of it, well, let's just say I was sold sight unseen. We drove for a piece and then we rounded the curve. Wow. The first landmark we saw was of the Bell Rock framed on each side by these incredible red rock monuments. To say they're amazing is an understatement. I'd seen them in westerns, but now I was there looking up at them. The mountains just came one after another. We could see the layers of strata, the red clay looking almost like chocolate at times, towering above us in all directions. We found a great place to have lunch and just take in the scenery through the large picture window. From Sedona, we drove into Oak Creek Canyon and high up into the mountains. We stopped at an overlook near the top, and saw a tarantula as soon as we got out of the car. Papa, in an effort to get it to move tossed a stick at it. I felt the need to protect it, which might seem a bit odd beings I'm an exterminator and all. Some local Indians had craft tables set up at the overlook. There was some controlled burning going on in the canyon below, so it made for an interesting view. Once out of Oak Creek Canyon, we made the remaining trip to the Grand Canyon without delay in order to see it before sunset. We saw signs for elk and mountain lions, and I was surprised at the drive through a forest not unlike the mountains of Tennessee. We arrived at the visitor center, but still couldn't see the canyon. The temperature was probably 20 degrees cooler, and none of us were really dressed for it. We walked down to the nearest overlook, and words really don't do it justice. I was a bit overwhelmed. I couldn't really wrap my head around what I was seeing. It was like looking at a giant painting, or at least that's the best way I can describe. We took the bus and rode over to another point to watch the sunset, and it was beautiful. We drove back to Flagstaff for the night, and tried to process all we'd seen and done. .

I could live in Flagstaff. The next morning we left the Super 8 and headed for a site called the Sunset Crater Volcano. But even before we got out of town, I was amazed to see the San Francisco Peaks in the hovering distance. They were rugged near the bottom, yellow with Fall aspen up the sides and capped with snow and clouds. They rise over 12,000 feet. Could we really still be in Arizona? We found our loop to Sunset Crater and had to stop just to take more pictures of the peaks. Down the road the landscape took on a radical change as I recognized and old lava field from an eruption hundreds of years ago. The ground turned black with ash as we came to the base of this young volcano. I hadn't seen anything like this since climbing the slopes of Mt Etna in Sicily about 9 years ago, and those lava flows were only a year old at the time. From there we followed the loop to the Wupatki National Monument. This was another Sinaguan site, and it's amazing how it's resisted the passage of time so well. There are no houses closing in, and the only scenery from the site is the surrounding red hills and distant Painted Desert. We spent nearly two hours wandering the site and exploring the details before completing the loop at the Walnut Canyon National Monument. Walnut Canyon also featured some spetacular Sinaguan indian cliff dwelling sites, but you really have to want to see them to get to them. Nathan and I was up for the adventure, so we hiked about a half mile down into the canyon. Along the way, there were more than a few sheer cliff drops and some fantastic ruins. Nathan and I was huffing and puffing on our way back up, but it was truly worth the trek into the canyon. From there, we were off to our final adventure of the day.

Apparently billions, and billions of years ago... but seriously, more like thousands of years ago, a giant meteorite slammed into the desert near Winslow, and rocked the western world. It left a crater nearly 1 mile in diameter, and it is the best preserved meteorite crater on planet Earth. Impressed yet? Bobbi, Nathan and I took a hike out on the rim and received a detailed presentation by Eduardo on the geology, vegetation and recent history of the crater. Eduardo is latino if you didn't gather by the name, so now everyone can just rest easy knowing that if one is latino AND legal, then he is welcome to have one of the coolest jobs in all of Arizona. Providing, of course, he's as good a guide as Eduardo. Anyway, I had always wanted to go see this lesser known giant hole in the ground in Arizona ever since I saw Star Man starring Jeff Bridges back in the '80s. It was well worth the extra 80 miles to see it. The rest of the evening was spent driving back through Flagstaff, down the mountains and back to Phoenix. The sunset on our way back down was unforgettable.

Wednesday was uneventful apart from a couple of rounds of putt-putt courtesy of Papa. Nathan had never played putt-putt before, so it was a real treat letting him learn from his Papa. It was very relaxing, but then we did need the rest after that exciting two-day adventure. Thursday, we drove down to Tucson to visit Papa's sister, Pat, and catch in some local Tucson sites. Pat is an absolute joy. Because she lives so far away and is about 78 years old, I had never met her in all of my 25 years of marriage to Bobbi. That is a shame. Her grandkids call her "Grandma Giggles," and it's obvious to anyone who meets her just why she deserves such a lovely nickname. We were all just taken with her pleasant sense of humor and amused at how she made a 12 mile drive feel like 40. The desert landscape and mountains were so lovely, that we didn't mind the slow drive at all. She drove us out to Colossal Cave where we took the cavern tour. I think it's fair to say that calling this cave "colossal" might be overselling it just a tad. Spelunking was another first for Nathan, but the cave smelled like an old tennis shoe, and almost all of the formations were broken off. Still, the Sonoran Desert just right outside made the trip worthwhile. We drove past the Rincon and Catalina mountain ranges, and saw one of the most remarkable sunsets of my life! You'll have to read to the end to see a photo of it, but just know that pictures really don't even come close to capturing the fire in the sky we experienced that evening.

We rested up again on Friday before venturing back up the mountains towards Sedona again on Saturday morning. On the way we toured another Sinaguan site called Tuzigoot National Monument. It was incredible, but by now we were expecting incredible. It was nice that it didn't disappoint. We posed for pictures and walked the ruins before heading back to Sedona. We did a little shopping in town and ate at a Cowboy themed restaurant for lunch. The town was dotted with painters taking part in a Plein Aire event. Once I'd found a gift for my Mom and the Navaho pottery that I had pictured in my head, we headed back toward 17N again. Our last stop of the day was the Montezuma Well. You guessed it; a Sinaguan cliff dwelling (or as Kristin calls it, "cwiff dwelling") site that sits high above a collapsed cavern filled in with mineral water from below. Nathan and I ran ahead to scout out the site out, while Kristin and Bobbi, probably all Sinaguan-ed out by now, took a more leisurely approach.

The next morning came early. We had to be at the airport by 4:30am for our Phoenix to Detroit flight. We finally got back to Charlotte later in the afternoon after losing those 3 hours from Phoenix.

I've commented before on the passage in the Bible, Romans 1:20, on how God, and I paraphrase, reveals Himself to His creation through His creation. I can't help but feeling a little closer to Him after seeing so much more of His artwork on this trip. The whole world does indeed proclaim His glory, and so do I.

Silver Anniversary

2010-10-11T06:37:00.000-07:00

October 11th, 1985 - It had only been 13 days since I'd turned 19 years old, but there I was, putting on a black sports coat I'd borrowed from my brother, Donnie. I'd rented a white shirt and cumberbund from the formal shop, and I was trying to make my pieced together outfit look like a tux. It didn't, but I'm not sure I was aware of it at the time. There were so many things missing from a day such as this. There were no candles or music...no glowing church aisle lined with flowers, no cake, and almost completely absent was the shared joy that such an event typically inspires from family and friends. Despite all of the missing elements, we had one precious thing that has proven so rare in our time. It is written that when two or more are gathered in the name of Jesus, He is in their midst. We started our lives together with the most honored of Guest...the Lord, Himself.
.

Today marks 25 years since that humble beginning. When I look back at this piece of life, I'm overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. Bobbi and I have spent an Air Force career together that moved us to Nebraska, Texas, Georgia, and Charleston, SC. We've known the joys of bringing three children into the world in three of those four states. We've watched with pride as our daughter, Kristin, has grown into a beautiful lady with the sweetest of hearts. We've shared the anguish upon learning that our son, Marcus, would never speak due to his severe autism. Dealing with the challenges of his autism has had a profound, life-changing effect on us individually, and as a couple. Still, I'm grateful for the perspective the experience has taught us. We learned how to love without having that love returned, we learned patience and humility, and we learned how to lean on each other, and most importantly, how to lean on Jesus. Out of hardship, we reaped precious benefit, and a shared life with one of the sweetest of God's children. When we learned of Nathan's autism, we were encouraged not to fear, because we personally knew by experience the One who has numbered our days and carefully ordered our steps. And, what a joy and blessing he has been to our lives. God has given me so much through him. I've written so many blogs about the times spent with him in father-son outings and the like. The three of them have bound us wonderfully together, filling our lives with joy and shaping our hearts.

Finally, I offer these words as a tribute to that beautiful soul that has become such a part of me as to be indistinguishable from my very own self. Bobbi is truly flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone. It is not because of my wisdom in choosing a mate, that I have such a beautiful, loving and God-honoring wife, but by God's grace alone. God knew me while I was yet in my mother's womb, and he knew me when I thought I could make a sports coat and bow tie look like a tux. :) He chose this woman for me before I was born into this world, and I thank God for her and for the life He has given me. To not make this anniversary a tribute to Him, would be most unfitting. For Bobbi, my wife of 25 years, I celebrate and give thanks.

From Proverbs 31:

10 Who can find a virtuous woman?

for her price is far above rubies.
11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her,

so that he shall have no need of spoil.
12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
13 She seeketh wool, and flax,

and worketh willingly with her hands.
14 She is like the merchants' ships;

she bringeth her food from afar.
15 She riseth also while it is yet night,

and giveth meat to her household,

and a portion to her maidens.
16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it:

with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
17 She girdeth her loins with strength,

and strengtheneth her arms.
18 She perceiveth that her merchandise is good:

her candle goeth not out by night.
19 She layeth her hands to the spindle,

and her hands hold the distaff.
20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor;

yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household:

for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22S he maketh herself coverings of tapestry;

her clothing is silk and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates,

when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
24 She maketh fine linen, and selleth it;

and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
25 Strength and honour are her clothing;

and she shall rejoice in time to come.
26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom;

and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
27 She looketh well to the ways of her household,

and eateth not the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed;

her husband also, and he praiseth her.
29 Many daughters have done virtuously,

but thou excellest them all.
30Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain:

but a woman that feareth the LORD,

she shall be praised.

A Wistful Look Back at Summer 2010

2010-09-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

It's Fall again! I do love this time of year. The coming of Fall brings to a close a wonderful Summer for the Miller household. We definately made the most of it, and I'm looking forward to sharing some of our adventures in the next few paragraphs. It's hard to know where to start, so I'll just start with our birthday celebrations and our first outing in June.

On June 1st, we celebrated Kristin's "20 something" birthday. I only say 20 something because she now complains that she's "getting old." I can only say, you know you're getting old, when your kids start worrying about being old. Anyways, we're very proud of her. She's working for TMobile as a customer service rep, so if you call in with a complaint, be nice! On June 4th, we celebrated Nathan's highly anticipated 13th birthday. I've never known a boy more excited about growing up and gaining "teen" status. And, don't even think of offering him a kid's menu at the restaurant...I mean it. We had a great day. We went to the beach at the Isle of Palms, and had dinner at Outback. He ordered off the adult menu, naturally.

Around the third week of June, I took a few days off, and took the family, and dog, to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, for a few days. We did all of our usual Gatlinburg stuff like driving out to Cades Cove, eating at the Pancake Pantry, and walking along the river. One treat for me was all of the fireflies, or lightning bugs, as we used to call them. I haven't seen hardly a one in several years, so it was nice to watch them out floating about at dusk over the fields and streams. I had the joy of teaching Nathan how to catch them gently without harming them while we watched them light up in our cupped hands. Nathan and I rode the chairlift at night. I tried not to act scared since Nathan wasn't so sure about it only seconds after take off. Still, it was lovely to see the town at night from way up high on the mountain, even though it was lovelier getting off the thing at the bottom. We had a great trip, and our Boston terrier, Neener Puppy, and the rest of us, cherished the family time in one of our favorite places.

We started July off with a visit from one of my oldest and best friends, Danny and his folks on the 4th. We walked the streets of Charleston and then returned for a cookout, and fireworks. The home fireworks show was something I hadn't done in years, and another first for Nathan. Getting to fire them off with Danny in the front yard reminded me of a 4th we spent together years ago as kids in his front yard the day before we went to Boy Scout Summer Camp together at Camp Old Indian. Danny came back down a couple of weeks later and spent a few days with the family. I took him out on my route, and we made time for a couple of fun outings between work stops. The first was a hot, hot, sweltering hot day out at the Old Santee Canal State Park. I'd been threatening to take him there for years, and finally made good on it. It was fun, but did I mention it was hot? The second trip was a little more bearable down to Beaufort and the old lighthouse at Hunting Island. That is one more beautiful place. Oh, and I just had to share this photo of an old Texaco that still stands as reminder of days gone by off of Hwy 17 just North of Beaufort.

Our big trip of the Summer also came in July as we drove up for nearly a week's tour of Washington, DC, and surrounding areas. For me it was a trip back to familiar scenery where I was stationed for a while in the Air Force, but it was nice to finally get to share some of my favorite places and experiences with Bobbi. I took her and Nathan out to Fredricksburg, Mount Vernon, and the Smithsonian. We ate at some of my favorite places in Alexandria, and met up with a friend, Jacquie, for dinner. We drove up on Sunday to Philadelphia where we saw the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and had dinner at the Old City Tavern. It was nice to take our time visiting the museums, memorials and Ford's Theater. It was also a necessity. The temperatures were in the upper 90's and 100's, so outdoor movement had to be calculated. Plus, there were literally thousands of Boy Scouts on the Mall. The National Jamboree was actually the reason we drove up, and every museum was lined with hundreds of scouts competing with us to see our nation's treasures. In addition to the things listed above, some additional highlights include dinner at Hard Times Cafe in Alexandria...love their chili, the chimi del oro at Don Pablos. Yeah, I know they're a chain, but we don't have one in Charleston, so it was a treat, the crystal glass maestro street musician in Alexandria, photographing our family mascot, Gollum, in some crazy locales, and a moonlight drive along the Potomac down to Mount Vernon. On the way home, we drove out to Fort A.P. Hill and spent a few enjoyable hours at the National Jamboree. It was good for Nathan to see it, and this one was special since 2010 is scouting's 100th anniversary.

With August came Bobbi's birthday, and another lovely night out with the family to celebrate. The next week, I took off a couple of days for a quick visit with my old friend, Howard, up at Surfside. We enjoyed a great buffet in Murrell's Inlet, and cruised Myrtle Beach's Ocean Blvd in his convertable while listening to the delightful sonic explosion that is Parliament...yep, two middle aged white guys jamming to a 70's funkadelic icon. Toward the last part of August, we got word that our favorite apple farm, GrandDad's Apples in Hendersonville, NC, had their first harvest of honeycrisp apples. In the mood for Fall, already, we drove up and fed our craving. We stopped at Chimney Rock on the way back down, and then had Dinner with Danny and Kristie at the Olive Garden in Spartanburg. We didn't get in until nearly 2:00 am and I had to play guitar for both services at church the next morning, but it was worth it. The last adventure of August was our scout troop's Siege of Charleston hike. It was 11.5 miles in all, but a great time, and Nathan earned his first trail medal.

Now it's finally Autumn, and today's my 44th birthday! We've already started our Fall list of events with a scout campout at Lake Warren over this past weekend, and the best is yet to come. Next month, my sweet Bobbi and I will celebrate a wonderful 25 years together. I could've never dreamed of such a beautiful marriage, and all I can do is thank the Lord for it. We plan to celebrate with a trip out to Phoenix and the Grand Canyon next month, but both the anniversary and the trip deserve a blog all of their own. With that, I end thanking the Lord for a beautiful Summer, a beautiful family and blessings overflowing. Thanks for reading!

A Precious Moment

2010-05-20T18:15:00.000-07:00

It was a familiar feeling the day we got the notice in the mail concerning Marcus's cap and gown...apprehension. It was the first outside reminder to me that Marcus would soon graduate from Ashley Ridge High School. The little invoice for these customary tokens didn't cause me to reflect on the passing of time, or even impart to me an impression of Marcus's achievement. No, The first thought in my mind was of Marcus pulling at his gown, dropping his hat to the floor and rising up with anxiety written all over his face midway through the ceremony wishing nothing more than to be in his van and on the way home. Those of you who know me, also know of my son's, Marcus's, autism. He is on the severe end of the spectrum, and has never spoken a word in all of his 21 years. He now lives in a group home, and is a sweet and happy hand full for his caregivers.

When we arrived at the school just this evening, we saw someone quickly exiting the front of the school. He was in cap and gown and the wind was blowing his cap back as he quickly darted toward the parking lot. It was Marcus. Close behind him was a caregiver frantically trying to catch him before he darted into harms way. We couldn't help but chuckle at recognition of him. This was so like him. Ready to leave even before the families and guests had arrived. We tried to sneak into the buliding knowing that the sight of us would only add to his anxiety and confusion. We picked out the back corner of the auditorium, but some of the other special education graduates started to gather near where we were seated, so we moved in closer to the stage hoping to blend in with the crowd. Soon after, Marcus's teacher approached us a little anxiously, and we both knew there was a problem. Just as I had first thought, Marcus didn't understand why he was brought to the school during non-school hours. This disruption to his routine meant only stress to him. He was not happy with his outfit, and just wanted to go back home. His teacher asked us if it would be okay if they brought Marcus up before the the ceremony to walk the stage out of sequence. We said that would be fine. Soon after, we saw Marcus enter the auditorium wearing his cap and gown walking with his teacher. They made an announcement that Marcus would receive his certificate before the ceremony. They announced that the first graduate of the evening was Marcus Hamilton Miller. They walked him across the stage to much applause which pleased me, but probably confused him. I tried to get a photo, but everything happened so quickly that I didn't have a chance to steady and focus. He was off the stage and gone as quick as that. They then announced that the ceremony would commence in 2 minutes.

We stayed and watched the other students graduate. A couple of fellows came up and gave their very best effort in leading the pledge of allegiance. There was something sweet about it, and I felt a tear form in the corner of my eye. Isn't it funny how certain little moments so hard to predict or define can evoke such sudden emotion? One of the boys stood up and walked toward the stage making what I can only describe as happy sounds. Another fellow smiled and pumped his fist as he walked with help across the stage...again I felt that little tugging at my heart. It was a short but truly touching ceremony. Marcus didn't understand the meaning of the event, and was much happier to sit it out; still, my eyes couldn't help but wander to the empty seat on the stage where my big boy was supposed to sit.

After the ceremony, there was cake and punch in the hall. We walked out, and I looked around hoping to see where they had taken Marcus. It was now safe to see him after the ceremony and give him a congratulatory hug even if he didn't know why, but he was no where to be found. I returned to the auditorium and asked his teacher where I could find him. She apologized and said they had taken him back home. I walked back out to the foyer holding my punch but walking alone. I told Bobbi and my parents that 'Marcus had left the building.' Just my attempt to distract with funny little words that embarrassing little moisture forming in the corners of my eyes.

Marcus was a handsome boy tonight in his cap and gown. Congratulations, son.

Be Thou My Vision

2010-05-06T18:23:00.000-07:00

On March 1st, 2010, I officially released my latest instrumental guitar project, Be Thou My Vision. It was such a treat to see the boxes arrive containing 1000 copies. I quickly opened the first box and looked over the finally finished product. Within 10 minutes, Kristin informs me that I have the word "skillful" in my thank yous mis-spelled. Come to think of it, to mis-spell a word that means full of skill is kind of ironic, isn't it? It's one of those things that can just toss a wet blanket on one's joy if permitted. I was tempted, but threw the wet blanket aside and just enjoyed the finished product.

I wanted to blog right away about the finished CD, but I wasn't really sure what to write about. I thought of recounting the joy of the process from picking out the songs to arranging and recording, but I couldn't really nail down a main point, so I waited. I'm glad I did. As an artist, a sub-creator of sorts, there is the natural tendency to question the impact of a work and maybe even harbor expectations. What will folks think of the work? Will people hear the imperfections I hear? I'm not above such thoughts, but I sort of knew they were coming, and I determined in advance that to dwell on such thoughts would undermine my heartfelt intention to glorify God alone. At first, it was a daily task to put aside those subtle little, self-centered thoughts... the nagging, persistent desire and almost need for the approval of others. As the first round of feedback returned, I fought the urge to be affected outside of due gratitude for words of encouragement. Some days I succeed better than others, but one thought has become a focal point...Be Thou My Vision. The title track, and the thought it expresses is proving a centering theme for me. If Jesus is to be my vision, then He must be my desire, my ambition, and my only hope for satisfaction. As the words of the hymn express, "naught be all else to me save that Thou art." In other words, nothing else can matter but Him. After all, it is He alone that can choose whether or not to bless and multiply.

I'm so thankful to have a product to share with folks. I'm so grateful to all the people who have encouraged me and worked with me to get something recorded, duplicated and shared. But mostly, I'm thankful that I have something akin to a few fish and a couple of loaves to give to Jesus. To be as that boy who offered his meager gift, seeing it blessed and multiplied to the glory of God, is what I desire most for this CD and for all the efforts of my life.

I'll end with the lyrics, because they say it far better than I could ever express:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, Thou my true Word;

I ever with Thee, Thou with me, Lord;

Thou my great Father, I thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle-shield, sword for my fight,

Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight.

Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower.

Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,

Thou mine inheritance, now and always:

Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,

High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,

May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heav'ns Son!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O ruler of all.

A Note From The Year of Our Lord, 2070

2010-02-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

I recently read an essay that a friend wrote while she was back in high school entitled "My Life in 37 years." The point of the exercise was to imagine what her life would be like in 37 years, and write a letter in that fictional present tense describing how things had turned out. I loved the idea and the essay, and it got me to thinking what would my life be like in 37 years. Well, being 43 years old, I thought I'd stretch that date out to 60 years from now just to add a touch of certitude. The following is a note written in what shall have been the earth year 2070.

Hello friends, and past self. What a privilege and unique opportunity is for me to reach back 60 years from today and speak to you from what you might imagine to be the year of our Lord, 2070. I have one word for you: JESUS. I know you think you know the Name, but you simply cannot imagine. I'm a relative newcomer to this Kingdom. I would name some of the souls I shared company with just earlier this day, but I don't want to accidentally impress you or give you the impression that any other name even compares to the one name: JESUS.

It is hard for me to imagine the word regret from this place where I stand today, but for your benefit, I will try with HIS help. Stay with me, this is on point I assure you. One dear brother here loves me so much. In 2010, I really didn't know him, but soon after I entered this Kingdom, he came up to me and told me that it was that year when he heard me play a hymn at a restaurant one night. He was enjoying dinner with his wife, and he heard "What a Friend We Have in JESUS." He looked at me, and I didn't even know it, and he said he saw sincerity in my eyes, and somehow sensed I wasn't playing for the crowd, but to Someone else. He hadn't heard the song in years, but upon hearing it that night, something stirred within him. He didn't sleep well that night, and thought about his younger days in church while he tossed and turned. He explained to me how God's own sweet Holy Spirit called out to him over the next few weeks, and led him down a path to repentance and belief in that one name: JESUS. There are a few others here that have such a special love for me, but here is the rare moment of regret that I've asked for in order to share with you something I know to be very important. Knowing HIM like I do now, I wish for a moment I was with you in 2010 again. You see, I know HIM, and I know when and where HE's at work. There were so many chances that I did not choose to take up the cross beside HIM. Oh, if I would've only shared with them this gift, imploring with them with every breath I had to trust in the one name: JESUS. Believe me, the fear and anxiety, apathy and meaningless distractions, the potential social consequences I dreaded that kept me too often silent...I can't imagine why I ever let such vain insecurities, such foolishness come between me and what mattered most to HIM. I can't adequately express the depth of this error, but it is like choosing death over beauty, sickness over strength, cold, silent emptiness over the indescribable warmth of HIS smile. To me, the latter comes the closest to the real choice I faced.

I imagine you're curious about the place where I now live. I can't explain it in terms you'd understand, but I'll try to give you something to imagine. On earth you breathe air. Here, you are filled with the glory of HIS presence fresher than the purest air you can imagine. You're so completely filled you don't even need to breathe in to feel satisfied. He satisfies your every breath. On earth you are soothed by the sound of the ocean. Here, HIS voice is like many waters, the clearest, most beautiful music you've never heard before. On earth you think that a field of lavender or a mountainside at full autumn peak is a sight to behold. Here, the glorious light that is HIM is every moment the most beautiful sight you've never even imagined. You will not take your eyes off of HIS glory for even a moment but to serve HIS purposes, and you will return to HIM as soon as HE is pleased with your work. You probably cannot understand this, but HE is definitive beauty. You'll never again long for another sight. There is so much more, but I can no more explain them to you than you can explain colors to eyes that cannot see. Trust me, the Best is yet to come, even for me everytime I see HIM again.

I'll leave you with this. You have such a brief, yet precious, gift. You can please HIM with your faith...please, please, please do this, and do this now. Once you've seen, you can never please through faith again. The opportunity to exercise faith through the works that are pleasing to HIM is such a blessing...you cannot imagine how precious it is, and how many souls will love you deeply for it. With the time you have left on that side, seek after, love and serve what matters most to HIM with all that you are. Harvest while there is still light to work. And finally, prepare yourself...for in a moment you will all be changed. See you very soon. :)

A Dream Come True

2009-12-11T06:20:00.001-08:00

Last Friday, I left for Nashville and met Kristin at the Hard Rock Cafe in Atlanta for dinner. I arrived at my hotel within a stone's throw of the Grand Ole Opry around midnight. I was pretty excited about my recording session, so I did find it a little difficult to get to sleep. This was my fourth trip up to Nashville to work on my 10 song, hymn CD, Be Thou My Vision. You'd think after 3 times before in the studio, that the gold records on my producer, Dave Pomeroy's wall for his work with Keith Whitley, Alison Krauss and Trisha Yearwood would be old hat, but they impress me anew everytime. Dave is a remarkable bassist with the type of personality that makes you forget he's shared the stage with Steve Winwood, Don Williams, The Chieftains and a host of other musicians of great renown and great talent. On Saturday, his attention was on li'l ol' me and my hymn project. We spent about an hour getting set up and waiting for a session musician to arrive. Around 10:00am or so, Andy Leftwich came in wearing a ballcap and carrying a fiddle and a mandolin case by his sides. Anyone who has ever listened to Ricky Skaggs' band, Kentucky Thunder has heard Andy. Ricky is one of the most respected musicians in the world for his genre of music, so the fact that Ricky, a remarkable fiddle and mandolin player in his own right, would select Andy to play fiddle and mandolin with him on the road and in the studio really says it all. In fact I've been listening to Andy for years and didn't even know it until reading the liner notes in retrospect. Andy and Dave caught up discussing a recent show that he played on the Opry stage, and talking about a recording they were working on with their all-star Nashville group, Three Ring Circle. Andy gave a listen to my title track, Be Thou My Vision, and went into the booth without a note one for reference. His tune up alone was beautiful, so I suggested he do a solo intro for my song. With almost no hesitation he nailed the concept nearly on the first run through. Dave had recorded a bass line on an earlier session, so the tune was already "complete" or so I thought. After hearing what Andy put down, I don't think I can imagine it without his fiddle...absolutely beautiful. As soon as he started, it was over and down for the record.

I thought about Dave's and Andy's talents, and about my own gift as a musician. I couldn't help but recognize the parallel between music and the Body of Christ. We're each given our own special part to contribute. Too often we don't realize our gift, our part, and too often when we do, we let it stand alone. What we have to offer may be fine by itself, but when we work within the Body, sharing our gift with the gift of others, there is a magnifying effect completing the composition in a way that lies just beyond our own vision. Together we are an orchestra, and God is our Maestro. I thank Him for conducting Be Thou My Vision last Saturday, and for allowing me to have a part in His orchestra. It is indeed a dream come true.

Remembering Scout Camp

2009-07-18T13:24:00.000-07:00

I can't recall how many summers my old scout troop spent summer camp week atop the Windy Hill campsite at Camp Old Indian. Just thinking about the old place brings back a flood of memories. I can smell the Off insect repellent. I can see the wooden plank floors, and iron bunk beds of our adirondack in my mind's eye. Each day was spent walking up and down the paths of that Blue Ridge Mountains foothills campsite. The most pervasive memory is the dining hall. We met as a troop there only 3 times a day, but it seemed like we were always at the table together. We shared chants, yells, songs, prayers and scrambled eggs. Flag ceremonies were also important. After the bugle sounded, we called out our daily report with a smart three-fingered, boy scout salute, "Sir, Troop 102 all present and accounted for!" And we honored the flag. Then, there were the campfires and indian dancers. One of the camp staff members, Brad, I think was his name, played guitar and sang Bye Bye Miss American Pie and Cats in the Cradle. I barely remember the merit badge classes other than Andy McGaha's Wilderness Survival course, even though some might argue that working on scout skills and earning badges is the focus of scout camp. For me, it was just the event; making life-long memories with friends. Wrestling with Victor Robinson, getting "tapped out" in a ceremony for the Order of the Arrow with my life-long friend, Danny, knot tying races, and thunderstorms all are lasting memories scattered in my mind without regard to any chronological sequence. Weeks go by all through our lives, and I'm saddened a little at just how few can be recalled to memory, but then, that makes memorable times stand out. We file them under "never forget," and our minds obey.

Last week, I added a new week to the file. Two-hundred miles south east of Camp Old Indian on Wadmalaw Island lies Camp Ho Non Wah. This was Nathan's first scout camp week, and my first as a scoutmaster. We walked trails together, made ourselves look silly with our dining hall chants, yells and songs. We weathered a fierce thunderstorm walking back to our campsite after dark in water knee deep at some points. We did the wave, and hit the beach ball at the campfires. I paddled a canoe with my hands in a leader's canoe race, and gave Nathan a little coaching with his basketry merit badge projects. Nathan earned almost 5 merit badges, but I bet he'll better remember feeding the millipede to that HUGE spider outside the scoutmasters' lounge. He'll recall the mosquito net over his bed, and the late night talkative cabin mates in his adirondack. I bet he'll better remember walking behind his scoutmaster Dad on those shaded lowcountry paths toward all those enduring adventures of scout camp life. As for me, I too will file the week under "never forget."

Memorial Day

2009-05-25T15:16:00.000-07:00

I want to say a word of thanks to all those brave men and women who've lost life or limb giving freedom to a nation that rarely counts the costs. Their sacrifice cannot be overstated. They are the true heroes of America, and in many cases, the free world.
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This month marks the two year anniversary of my retirement from the United States Air Force where I was honored to serve for just over 20 years. On a few occasions I've had folks come up to me and thank me for my service. One morning a fellow bought me a hot tea at a Starbucks in Alexandria, VA just because I was in uniform. Another time a lady came up to me in the grocery store to thank me. The pastor of my church routinely singles out past and present military members for recognition, and I'm always proud to stand along side the others who've served. But truth be known, I've always received more from my service than I had occasion to give. Because of the US Air Force, I was able to receive an education I could not, otherwise, afford. Because of the Air Force, I've seen frost on Nebraska cornfields, the sunrise over Mt Etna in Sicily, and the sunset against the walls of the Alhambra in Spain. I've seen castles on the Rhine, fields of gold in France, and harvest moons over a southwestern desert. Because of the Air Force, I've marched before sunrise on the echoing streets of Lackland, I've trained on the friendly fields of strife at Maxwell, and I've briefed generals and sergeants in makeshift offices during time of war. I've seen a C-17 on an overseas tarmac bearing a flag draped coffin, and I taught a cadet who would join those who paid the ultimate price for our freedom. All of this, and I was able to be counted among the names of those who've served this country, and humbly have association with those who gave their life for it. Yes, I received far more than, by the grace of God, I ever had to give. .
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For those who gave more than they received, I say thanks and I remember.

Keith H. Miller, Major, USAF (retired)

Out Like a Lamb

2009-03-31T20:24:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's 11:24 pm on the 31st, and I'm just about out of time to post a note for March, so here it is. This month definately came in with winter's last gasp, but hopefully I'll be posting some photos of the azaleas soon. Charleston is simply at its best right now. The pear trees were snowing little white flowers all week. I have dozens of goldfinches in my backyard competing for 10 perches on two thistle feeders. The picture shows a red bellied woodpecker on my seed feeder just last week. The azaleas and wisteria are building to a crescendo, and this weekend and next week should be amazing. There are so many things going on in the world lately that give good cause for one to be very anxious, yet, God is in control. He reveals Himself to His creation, through His creation, and for the ability to see Him in these simple, beautiful ways, I am thankful.

My Bird Watching Season Opener

2009-02-28T17:41:00.001-08:00

About mid-March, I like to clean and refill my thistle feeders in our backyard. Soon after, our backyard becomes a favorite little haven for the goldfinches for about a month or so, and then they move on and leave the seeds for the cardinals and mourning doves. I was looking out back just today thinking about the coming of the goldfinches when I saw a truly amazing sight...the largest woodpecker I've ever seen in my life was perched on our wooden fence. His head was bobbing up, down and around as he worked over a little piece of our fence. I called for Kristin, and she came over and exclaimed, "he's large enough to eat!" I then said, I've got to get a pic of this fellow if he'll let me. I went back to my room to get my camera, and then as quietly as I could manage, opened the back screen and slipped outside. It was drizzling just a little as I crept across the yard toward the back fence. I turned my camera on, and started trying to close in with my zoom before he caught sight of me. He darted to a nearby tree and quickly positioned himself opposite of where I was standing. I saw the red tuft peek out to the side as he surveyed my position, then he pulled back before I could get the shot. Finally he sailed over to another tree and I caught a blurry image as soon as he gripped the side of the tree. He then darted to another tree and I got a little shot of him searching the branch for a meal.

When I got back to the computer, I loaded the pics up, and did a quick search to determine what kind of woodpecker I'd just seen. Only one kind of woodpecker on the page even resembled him...the ivory billed woodpecker. I clicked on it to read more, and to my shock read that this variety of woodpecker was thought to be extinct until 1999, and that definitive proof of their existence, until recently, was still elusive! What's more, it said that this kind of woodpecker was the 2nd largest woodpecker in the world. I was a little more than excited by the prospect that I had seen something so rare. I told Kristin, and she called her knowledgeable friend, Amanda. Kristin was sure that her friend would have good insight since she had extensively studied birds, insects and was basically a walking naturalist's handbook. Amanda was driving near our home; she gasped and immediately re-charted her course to our house upon hearing about the possibility of such a rare sighting. While on her way, she suggested that I look up the pileated woodpecker, just so we could rule it out. By the time she arrived, I had just about come to grips with the fact that our visitor was indeed the pileated woodpecker as she suspected...beautiful and uncommon, yes; critically endangered, no. Still, it's not everyday that I get to uncover a mystery in my own backyard. I hope he lives nearby and visits often during the upcoming finch season. Who knows, maybe next time he'll bring along an ivory billed pal.

Low Country Coin Show

2009-02-07T14:45:00.000-08:00

With the coin show out at the Ladson fair grounds, it's been tough trying to work the past couple of days. Fortunately, I can at least claim the "cool Dad" title even if the flipside is near dereliction of duty regarding my business route. One of the merit badges I earned as a young scouter was the Coin Collection Merit Badge, and it was one of those things that expanded my appreciation for our currency and the feel of history that just lingers on old coins. It can be a very expensive hobby. Literally thousands of dollars are on display at these shows, but for me the intrinsic value has never been the draw. I like to hold the coin in my hand, study its artful design and worn lines and spaces, and just imagine what the world was like when it was made. One of my favorites is this old worn large cent minted in 1822. You can barely read the date, and the face of Liberty is worn smooth and almost flat. The value is degraded because of the wear, but when I hold it, I like to think that Thomas Jefferson was still alive when it was minted. The nation was young, and the sun was still rising on our Republic. Abraham Lincoln was just 13 years old at the time, and could've labored long in the sun for that very penny. Every human alive on earth at the minting of that penny has long since passed away, and still it lives on held in yet another American's hand.

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This weekend, Nathan started his own collection. He put some of his Christmas money in his wallet, and went to the show with me. While we were there, we had the special treat of meeting the show's guest of honor, a remarkable Abe Lincoln look-alike. It was perfect since this President's Day we celebrate Lincoln's 200th birthday. We posed for photos and Nathan bought 102 foreign coins at .10 cents a piece. We spent the evening logging and labeling the nations and dates in a catalog. He bought a complete set of WWII nickels, two Buffalo Nickels and an Ike silver dollar. We got two of the states quarters catalogs, and went through a roll of quarters filling in as many as we could find. He learned a little about grading the coins, and a little about the minting locations, and maybe even caught a little of that wonder that I felt when I was his age. All in all I think I've almost earned Coin Collecting Merit Badge all over again, and Nathan has come a long way towards it himself! Best of all, we can chalk up another weekend of discovering more about each other while we discover the world around us.

Thoughts on the Abundant Life

2009-01-11T13:01:00.000-08:00

When I was young, I remember riding with my Dad while he worked accounts on his pest control route. We would ride from Cowpens to Gaffney late in the evening toward some little mobile home sitting off in a field. On the way, he would teach me what he'd learned about succeeding in business. Often he would quote the words of Norman Vincent Peale encouraging me to "think positive," and remove those harmful words like "can't" from my vocabulary. I learned a lot of good things on those rides even if I'd rather been home watching Sanford and Son or the Rockford Files. These talks were different from our Bible discussions. Those talks often included Old Testament references, but ultimately came down to the salvation offered by Jesus Christ...not by works or positive thoughts, but by faith in Christ alone.

These days it seems the topics have been merged. There is so much literature out there now on how to apply Christianity as a formula for earthly success. The "abundant life" through Christ that Paul talked about is now understood to mean abundance in earthly terms...health, wealth and happiness. It all sounds great until you read what the scripture actually says. One passage I find particularly interesting is in The Acts 23-25. Paul and Silas were in Philippi and had stirred up the people in that town with a message that many today might say wasn't very "seeker friendly." Paul often found that the truth of Christ can be considered offensive; it cares nothing for political correctness and very, very seldom pleases the masses. As their reward for preaching the truth, here is what Paul and Silas received: The Acts 23 "And when they had laid many stripes on them, they threw them into prison, commanding the jailer to keep them securely. 24 Having received such a charge, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks. The Philippian Jailer Saved 25 But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them." So, to get the picture straight, these fervent believers and doers of the Word were beaten and imprisoned! True, God loosened their chains with a powerful earthquake, but they sang while yet they were still bound...now THAT is the abundant life of Christ. Bottom line is that earthly success is not a guaranteed outcome for the believer. In fact, when you look at the apostles' lives after Christ arose from the tomb, all but one were murdered for their obedience to the Lord. That's hardly success by earthly measure.

What can we conclude? To serve Christ is to be willing to sacrifice all, even unto death if need be, without any promise of earthly reward. To be willing to leave life behind for the sake of Christ means that health, wealth, happiness, and even our own perceived purpose to be has to mean nothing to me in light of Christ Who is to be everything or nothing. I want the abundant life that lets me sing even if chained and persecuted; abundance that leaves me with joy in the midst of sorrow--a joy that surpasses all understanding. To embrace the cross is to be scorned by a world that tells you that your personal health, wealth and happiness is paramount, but it is what we who would follow Christ must do.

The Guest of Honor

2008-12-14T11:53:00.000-08:00

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.

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!

2008-11-15T18:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-09T10:45:00.000-08:00

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.

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

The Ashley By Morn

2008-11-01T07:39:00.000-07:00

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.

The Ashley By Morn

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

2008-10-29T07:36:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-24T12:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-30T18:32:00.000-07:00

...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

2008-08-25T18:15:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

Nathan

July 4, 1994

2008-07-09T17:57:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-03T15:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-20T10:41:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-16T18:37:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-15T09:35:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-04T16:30:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-03-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

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