Donkey thoughts

This friend lives down the road from me.  I passed him today and noticed his lack of might and his diminutive stature. Unlike a mighty dutch warm blood, this small little donkey stood up against the barbed wire fence with very little movement. 

Used in many cow pastures to protect young calves from the blood thirsty coyotes, they serve a great purpose in herd development. 

So, on this week, two millenniums ago, Jesus Christ entered the city of Jerusalem on a donkey much like my friend. Walking along the cobble stoned streets in what was called the triumphal entry. This story, a classic example of why we are humans and He is God. I’m not sure, but I think If I'd been God, I would have shown a little more muscle than a small little donkey. Maybe the Clydesdales. Possibly the grand wagon that they pull, minus the logos. ;-). But then again, knowing that crucifixion was imminent, would I even have gone to Jerusalem. Probably not.

I’m not sure of my friends name, but I appreciate him shading himself along the barbed wire fence this morning. He took my mind to exactly where it needed to be this week. 

Zechariah 9:9:

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

Am I the only one that has this effect

Can you imagine life without the art of music? Consider the movie Star Wars with the epic opener by the great composer John Williams. Or Mark Isham, who described with notes the Montana of Norman Maclean's youth.  So powerful, you can hear the music and it takes you there.

Or is it just me?

Most all places have an anthem of some kind in my mind. Like Boston's "More than a Feeling" that takes me to a cool fall afternoon where I was falling in love with Elizabeth. Over and over we listened to that incredible rock piece. Or 1984, Myrtle Beach listening to Billy Ocean's "Caribbean Queen".

I think that is one of the things that God created in the human. Our ears connect to our mind, triangulated with our heart to form an emotion that only music can make. It happened to me when I pulled pieces of Baroque music together to help create the holiness of that special day in my life on March 17, 1989.

And how could you talk about music and not address the music of praise and adoration to the One who gifted so many with the ability to play, sing and write music, and who gifted all of us with the opportunity to enjoy it. I grew up in a church where great pride was placed on their a cappella style of gospel singing. Even today, I occasionally find myself humming or even quietly singing "My hope is built on nothing less of Jesus blood and righteousness."

My iTunes account and Amazon music is filled with a variety of music. There is music that I have for celebration, and music to calm my melancholy spirit.  I am moved by the great works of Bach, and can even tap my feet to Bruno Mars.

To say my taste are eclectic is an understatement. But I'm glad God gave me, gave us, music. It is comforting to the soul. Its like a brush that paints a three dimensional picture of life. Like the movies I mentioned above, music has a way of displacing you for the moment and taking you there.

As a sample, I'll take you to one of my favorite places that music takes me to.... Montana! Where does this music take you? Click above

What's in a name?

If you've been to the farm, you'll notice a small granite placard on our brick entrance column. We built the columns the year we built our house. I called Carl Lambert, the local funeral home director and asked him to have a tombstone company create an insert in the column. It says "Ellafield, Est. 2000" and  " as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord".

So what's in a name? If you grew up in the Jericho-Hardison community, you would recognize the name "Ella".  It was my paternal grandmother. Essentially, I was born into her world as she lived with my mom and dad from the time I was born. In the day, Ms. Ella, as she was called by all,  ran the little country store on the corner of Jericho Church Road and Buck Seaford Road.  I could write and endless blog on life at the country store, but this one is about names.

Unembarrassed,  I will share with you a short story about a gift.

A simple woman, Ms. Ella, was frugal. After Liz and  I were married, we lived in a small rental property on Deadmon Road in Mocksville. In her humble way, she gave us an envelope one time with a gift of $5,000.  This was at a time we were figuring each month how we would make the checkbook stay in the black from month to month. Along with this gift, she told us her desire was for us to use this towards a house. So, soon after, we purchased a property on Jericho Road. We decided to borrow money from Mocksville Savings & Loan, using the  $5,000 as a down payment to satisfy the bank. Both of our kids were born and experienced their first of many things in that house. We took care of that property and within 4 years, we sold it and built a larger home on a larger piece of property. But in our dreams, we wanted to have acreage, a few horses and cows.  On a whim, we allowed a real estate agent  at our office to show our second house at a price we wouldn't say no to. Well, because of that, we had to say YES, and sold house #2.

So, we took that $5,000 that my grandmother gave us and multiplied it. We multiplied it to the point we were able to build what we called our "dream farm". During the construction, I told Elizabeth I wanted to enjoy and always remember the financial and spiritual blessing Ms. Ella gave to us. So, we named the farm "Ellafield". We moved in in January of 2000.  Because my grandmother knew where true blessings came from, you'll see the inscription "as for me and my house we will serve the Lord".  So, there really is something in a Name.

Grandma, never got to see our little dream come true, But, as March always reminds me of her, I know she would be tickled to see the little granite placard. She would have been 110 on March 20.

World War II Honor Luncheon-Davie County Friday March 23

As a child, I remember being fascinated by the story's of my Uncle Charlie Swicegood on Buck Seaford Road. His hands were wrinkled, the map of his long life you could see in the lines beside his eyes, yet his memory of December 7, 1941 was a clear as day.  As a 12 year old boy, I listened to him intently. He described the horror was yet remembered the resolve in the hearts of America. I feel certain my relationship with him is what caused me to value the American soldier.

For the rest of my life, I read about the war in Europe and the battles of the Pacific. When I visited Arlington the first time, all the years of interest became like cured concrete. My resolve to thank American soldiers became my commitment. Later, when I took my family to the beaches of Normandy, France, the pounding rising tide rose in me a deeper appreciation for the blood, the sacrifice that at one time laid upon these sands.

In 2011, when I was asked to serve on the board of directors for the Triad Flight of Honor,  I was eager to help take the 1300 World War II veterans to see their monument; a monument that was built
 59 years after victory was declared. 

One of the off shoots of the Triad Flight of Honor was a luncheon honoring the WWII guys/gals. Friday, March 23, 2018, we will have once again, a small thank you to these guys. A  BBQ sandwich and fries from Deanos BBQ in Mocksville is a simple way, in the twilight of their lives to say thank you.

If you know of a World War II veteran, please bring them to have lunch with their fellow servants. Lunch will be provided for the veteran and their guardian.

Expect to see heroes. Expect to get a lump in your throat. Expect to take away a memory you will talk about 20 years from now when you will say, I sat among heroes who helped save America.

A special thank you to Dwight Sparks and the Davie County Enterprise. They have graciously sponsored each event. Also to Kathy Miller, with One Shot Photography who will be present at the event with camera in hand.