Miles Upon This Road

Too many smoky nights
All those regretted mornings
Leave me
Thinking of you
Wondering where you are
Hoping you're still out there
Wishing
on that same old star.  -Sandy Tolar


If someone handed you lyrics that spoke to your heart, as these do to mine, how could you not frame a melody around it?

Music can take us to places in the heart where we could not or would not go unaided.

Hidden places, places we weren't aware existed.

Walled-up closed-off places I would never go to again, unless music carried me there.

And words which reach up off the page and pierce so deeply, when set to the proper melody, bring us to the rarest of all places: where joy, grief and amazement combine into an unutterable emotion.

It can happen in church, when we sing "It is Well With My Soul." Or when I hear Roy Orbison sing "Crying."

Or when I play this freshly composed song.

This music.

This gift from God.

My creator has made music.

I will imitate my Creator.

And I wonder if this unutterable emotion will be that which I feel (only magnified many times over) when I shall behold the face of my Savior and the mountains and the hills break forth into singing?

If Today is Friday, What Day is it in Heaven?

When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound and time shall be no more. -Hymn: "When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder"


Perhaps I shouldn't be thinking of this.

October 3 is Ms. Joycie's birthday.

I have seen many posts wishing a happy birthday to someone's loved one "up in heaven."

I'm sure you have reflected, as I have, upon how blessed we are to have that assurance, not only for ourselves, but also for our dear departed, those who have gone to be with the Lord.

I know that when Christ returns, time as we know it will cease to be. After all, how can you number the days of forever?

But what about now, for those already standing before God's throne? For we who remain, our works and days continue. But are there (to speak in a temporal manner) calendars on the walls of any of those "many mansions?"

You may think it a silly question. Still, as I ponder the matter of heaven and its many mysteries, I wonder; how is time reckoned in that place, if at all.

I suppose, as we move about in the present reality, that we attempt to comprehend these things in terms of our experience. May I not sin in so doing.

Heaven is outside that experience and so, for now, I wonder.

And I look forward to finding out.

For now we see though a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I also am known. - 1 Corinthians 13:12