The Music of the Wind

The Music of the Wind

 
I love the music of the spheres, the music of the wind on the fields and trees, the music of the shadows and the truth. I love the music of souls that hurt and seek the Lord in earnest for unselfish gain. I love the music of the loved ones gone on before me. I love the music that is made in fervent creativity and performed in honest expression. I love the music. I love the people. I love the instruments and the voices and the forces of physics created for this pleasure. I cannot wait patiently for the joy of heaven where all who love Him will sing.

Guardian of My Heart

I never wonder why God wants me to guard my heart. The overwhelming evidence supports the reason He commands us to “not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 ESV).

An unguarded heart frets and whines and fears. Lions and tigers and bears of life, all around us, all the time, can force us to worry. Forces outside our control can cause us to fear. We might complain from our constant condition of need about what we have or don’t have. And that is just no way to live. No gratitude there! Do I dwell every day among the calm and gracious? No. I bump along, willy nilly, head in the rubble. I must return to Scripture. Verses like the one here open me up and bring me to trust and confidence in Him. The little brick road ahead beckons, the woods lighten up, and all those destructive creatures keep away from my guarded heart, just as if Someone knows how to protect me really well.

Cooler Summer Day

Today, in what should be the hottest part of the year, the temperature is 76 degrees. It even rained last night and this morning. The canvas rocker on the back porch had a gallon of water in the seat. I captured it in the watering jugs so I can water my plants there when the temperature goes back up to the hotter nineties range. 

It might even go to a “hunerd” degrees pretty soon.

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe we should say that the hottest time of the year in Central Texas is September. My college friend, Bob, used to walk outside the dining hall after the evening feed and say,”It’s hotter ‘n’ fried radishes out here!” And he was right. 

Hammocks in the Heat

Sand at the Beach

Froggies Singin’ Cuz It Just Rained Today

 

A few little book titles, or song titles for us to ponder on a cooler summer day.

Are You My Daddy?

For several years, I have struggled dealing with whether or not to track down my biological father. Just this week I came to a peace-giving decision. I just don’t need to find him. Why would I want a relationship with a man who raped my biological mother? I had some romantic notion that he would be sorry for what he did sixty years ago, and wondered if my biological mother was okay, and would want to know his offspring. What a ridiculous long shot that would all be! So I have let that go.

And then yesterday, out of the blue, a wonderful thought came to me about my Dad. He is the man who committed legally to adopt me and keep me as his daughter and give me a life full of blessings and opportunities. I realized that my father never spoke a cross word to me. Never.

One time, I made a big mistake at the church youth dance on a Friday night. A bunch of the girls brought liquor all mixed up in a Mason jar and we drank it down and proceeded to get busted. My poor mother had to come get me. Mortified. My father was out of the country but when he returned, he said not one word to me for a couple of weeks. And this is what he finally said. He smiled and said, “Well, I went behind the barn myself a couple of times.”

So that is the man I call father. Earthy father, that is. I have never had a problem with my heavenly Father. The two of them are enjoying each other in heaven as we speak.