On the wind that kept the sea of American flags blowing was the smell of diesel and the sound of laughter. The grounds at the 42nd annual Macungie antique truck show in Pennsylvania seemed somewhat sacred to generations of trucking families. There were the old timers who walked down memory lane like royalty, the adolescent boys with their cell phones filming content, and all of us awestruck observers in between. The artist in me appreciated the design lines and chrome that were common 25+ years ago but have since been replaced by cheaper manufacturing decisions. 
     Something that caught my attention about one truck in particular was not the vehicle itself but its passengers. Leaning out the driver side window were two dogs eagerly waiting for their master to return. I was impressed with their control and patience. If only we humans could be as obedient waiting on our Master to return. They say “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks” but I’m here to disagree. From simply observing those dogs in that old Mack truck, I’ve gleaned a few insights. If we get impatient and jump out of what our Master has deemed safe, we could get hurt. And even if we survive the fall, we’ll probably get distracted by the world and get on a scent that would pull us away from the Master Plan. The dogs even resisted the urge to follow well-intentioned, friendly people who came up to the truck and interacted with them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had that kind of resolve!
     Fido (translated means “faithful”) was a dog in the early 1940’s in Italy who became famous for waiting. His master, an Italian brick kiln worker, had found him injured and restored him to health. Fido walked with his master to the bus station every day and waited for him to return. One day in 1943 a WWII air raid bomb killed the man at work and Fido remained at the bus station, waiting…for the next 14 years!
     While dogs like that get really close to earning the title “man’s best friend”, there were two that were certainly not our friends one evening in Disney World. While dining at the 101 Dalmatians themed restaurant, Jack (then a small boy) had to use the bathroom and the duty fell on Jeff to take him. When they returned to the table, I could tell something had gone awry. The story unfolded gradually like peeling back layers of an onion that makes you cry. There had been confusion at the onset because the doors were marked with “Purdy” and “Pongo” instead of men and women, and Jeff, not being familiar with the movie, didn’t know if he was a Purdy or a Pongo. Sensing the urgency of his small son, he didn’t tarry long on the decision and darted into one.  They were in their secure stall when they heard women’s voices.  A desperate man planning his next move, Jeff told Jack to stay close and keep up as they darted past a gauntlet of disapproving female stares.  They didn’t even take time to wash their hands! 
     As for the dogs waiting in the Mack truck…I wonder if they were waiting obediently because they knew their master was nearby and were loyal in that security. Or perhaps the parent dog knew a jump outside of obedience might not harm it personally, but it could drastically hurt its child if it most assuredly would have followed suit. What if we were so generous to the next generation? 
     In closing, think about what it is you’re waiting for. Is it to be appreciated? To be healed? For a spouse or a child? For a special Valentine in a few days? Take heart! “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” (Psalms 27:14) Sometimes waiting for someone or THE one is the Master’s Plan. 

 “Pap” was the best story teller. We’d beg him to tell us a story until he’d surrender, spit his tobacco juice one more time and launch into it. “Well, Punk McCartney and Ancil Anderson were here at the farm one time and Punk got it in his head he wanted to ride a cow. So Ancil and I worked until we got a rope and saddle on one ole girl.  She was a sassy one with horns.  As quick as Punk got in the saddle, away she took off up the field.  Crazy thing is, in her hurried take off she accidentally caught her horns in Ancil’s galluses (suspenders). That cow snorted and carried on while running around wildly.  Ancil looked like he’d rather be turned loose but Punk was having the time of his life.  Finally Ancil’s galluses broke free and Punk jumped off after a while.  We didn’t try that anymore but we sure talked about it several times after that.”
Pap’s glory days were fun to hear about and I imagine each generation has their own adventures. l asked mom what wild times she and Aunt Hilda had growing up and she told me a story about rolling a big rock down the hill and it tore up the fence above the barn. I’m not sure if they simply lived quiet lives or if this was all she was willing to give up for the article. For sure their daughters had more spirited stories to share, mostly because Cousin Brenda could talk me into anything. I’ve already written about us going down the flooded Holly River on a tractor tire tube. Another time at a craft show in Ripley, WV one Fourth of July weekend, she convinced me to put on these hot pants featuring Old Glory. I pranced around and when a group of state troopers walked past mom’s basket booth, Brenda had them all salute my hot pants!
 And then there was a time between October 1990 and June 1992 we thought it would be an adventure to see for ourselves the true events happening at the Ravenswood Aluminum plant. I still can’t believe we were allowed to go, but there we were in the midst of it. We met some friendly, colorful characters who shared about the escalated labor dispute and all the health and safety concerns, union efforts, scabs, and how the workers pooled resources to survive what would be a 20 month strike.  We also learned what jack rocks were…and didn’t realize the probable danger zone we’d entered until we were looking back on it. I’m glad my glory days included that adventure.
Some of us still use the old-fashioned phrase “Glory Be!” to reflect shock or surprise. Others say “To God be the glory!” showing honor in a moment of praise. Glory is used multiple times in scripture as well.  Who hasn’t stepped out on a starry night and looked up to realize the fullness of Psalm 19:1. “The Heavens declare the Glory of God…”  The most significant use is when glory refers specifically to God’s presence The Holy Spirit, like in a pillar of fire, or a cloud that guided and shaded in the desert and later filled the temple. It is this Divine presence that I wish for all of us to experience in the upcoming new year. Jesus told his friends if they believed, they would see the glory of God. What if we just need to believe more?
I’ve never ridden a cow like Pap’s friends, and my adventures nowadays have been reduced to helping my sister cut her chicken’s toenails (which can be quite lively if you don’t know what you’re doing.) But I can leave you with this: Whether the stars are in the heavens or on your hot pants, use it all for the glory of God…and may all our days be Glory days.                                                                                         

​   The rustling of fallen leaves. The barely audible touchdown of a snowflake. The night calls of an owl or whippoorwill. The grandkids laughing. The doctor saying you’re all clear. What’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard? My family is riding the Polar Express Train this month which is based on a book by the same name written by Chris Van Allsburg, wherein the main character says a jingle bell from Santa’s sleigh is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. Recently I was moved by a sound I’ve never heard before and I wanted to share the story.
 
      It all started when I was cleaning leaves out of the gutter and saw strange little creatures peeking out from tangled end-of-the-year vines on the ground beneath my ladder. Upon further investigation I discovered several seed pods that looked very much like rams' heads! I recalled a conversation with Jeff months before observing an alien plant growing in our flower beds which we identified as rams' horn gourds, but the oddly shaped orbs sure hadn’t resembled anything like rams I'd seen on the farm. However now, spot on! The seed pods as well as some of the mature gourds clearly resembled a ram's horn. I wondered how many other things will make sense if we are just patient?
 
     A little research on the plant revealed how the Native Americans cooked the young gourds as a healthy source of protein and fiber in their diet. What? You can eat them?! Jeff and I had dismissed the little gourds because they smelled different and were sticky.   
 
     In Jewish tradition, an actual ram’s horn is a sacred object called a “shofar” which is blown like a trumpet. It represented the voice of God, calling them to march around the walls of Jericho until the walls fell (Joshua 6:20), or calling them to assemble, or warning them of danger (Ezekiel 33:1-6).
 
     With my curiosity piqued, I listened to the actual sound of the ram’s horn on the internet, and it was incredibly spiritual and stirring. Christians nowadays aren’t blowing a Shofar, but we can hear God’s voice through His words in the Bible and the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
 
   Going from cleaning gutters to hearing an ancient representation of God’s voice is what’s called a “rabbit trail”. It’s a common phrase describing people going off on tangents or on a path they didn’t expect. I’m comfortable with this process because we were conditioned early on. Like their mom did before them, when Easter rolled around Mom and Aunt Hilda wrote out miles of clues for us little girls to follow to find our Easter baskets. These wanderings on “rabbit trails” or “bunny trails” had us climbing trees and dipping deep into an old box freezer filled with water collected for sheep. I’m sure they seemed like good ideas at the time, but it does make you wonder what ones got vetoed! One clue was even tied around the neck of our ram.  I don't know if you've ever seen four little girls trying to retrieve a tiny piece of paper from around the neck of a buck sheep, but I assure you if it happened today, we'd be on TV. 
 
    The clues on my recent rams' horn rabbit trail were all worthwhile. One told me to be thankful God is patient as we slowly become who He has called us to be.  One said if we likewise are patient things might make sense in the next season. Another one told me to not overlook a blessing just because the situation might be sticky. God says, “Call to me and I will answer you and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known before.” (Jeremiah 33:3) Therefore the best clue is to listen for the Voice of God….It is truly the most beautiful sound we will ever hear.    

      A cotton candy breeze mixed with the faint yet distinct odor of diesel washed over the sea of humanity. Laughter and screams of excited fairgoers could be heard above the clinging and clanging of the carnival rides and midway games.
     The year was someplace in the 1960’s and my parents were on a date. It might have been the excitement of being with a cute guy, or perhaps she was all hyped up on sugar, but my mom decided to try her hand at the sledgehammer game! She had been eyeing the adorable stuffed animal prizes all evening. The attendant yelled “Step right up! Step right up!” So step up they did. Mom paid the man her dollar and turning to my dad, said what countless women have said right before they do something epic— “Hold my purse!” She picked up the sledge hammer and raised her arms high above her head with farm girl grit and determination. When the hammer fell the light meter began to climb… 5 feet… 10 feet… Until it reached the top at 15 feet! Bells chimed, people cheered, and mom eagerly awaited her reward. Her eyes were still scanning the selection of stuffed animals when the attendant congratulated her and handed her a tootsie pop. Yes, a mere sucker which she and dad thought appropriate because they felt like one as they laughed and walked away.
     The next day at church there was a woman passing out candy, which happens at small rural churches more often than you’d think. She gave everyone – you guessed it – tootsie pops! Dad leaned in and whispered to mom jokingly how she had had to pay a hard-earned dollar for hers the night before!
     Life’s not a county fair or even fair, but there is a place with no disappointments. Ephesians 3:19 and 20 tells us “…Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that is at work within us.” Be encouraged how God gives us exceedingly more, above and beyond what we ask or think.
     One could say He goes the extra mile, a well-used phrase we get from scripture. In Matthew 5:41 Jesus commands us to go the extra mile. He was referencing a law in which a Roman soldier could make a Jewish person carry their heavy gear one mile. Jesus told his listeners to go two! The first mile is obligation; the 2nd mile is a personal decision.
     My husband Jeff provides me an example. He mows our lawn every week and often mows our neighbors’ as well. Once he was mowing four lawns because of sprained ankles or sicknesses. And just this week he drove me home to West Virginia on a work day going the extra 292 miles! We all have people in our lives that go the extra mile and we are called to do the same. Imagine what that would look like in our marriage, our jobs, and our friendships.
     There was a woman in the Bible who went above and beyond. Rebekah was at the well and when asked for a drink of water she offered to water the man’s camels too. He had 10 camels and if each one can drink 20 to 30 gallons that’s a lot of water! On that day Rebekah‘s actions rewarded her more than a tootsie pop— a place in the lineage of Jesus’ family tree (and some pretty cool gold jewelry.)
     You never know how God will use your extra mile to bless you or others. Just like on that fair date long ago if we listen we might hear someone prompting us to “Step right up!” And maybe it’s about time to turn to someone with new found energy and say “Hold my purse!”
 
 

 “Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow.”  In reality sheep are a little messier than those in an innocent nursery rhyme. More often than not, farming requires us to get our hands dirty and getting wool clean takes effort. Proverbs 31:13 tells us a godly woman “looks for wool and flax and works with her hands in delight.”
     This spring our happy meter went beyond delight into the euphoria zone as we cleaned ten fleeces by hand. We had wool everywhere; on the porch, in the yard, on a trailer, in our hair, on our clothes, in trunks, and under the beds! The family cat tried to eat some but gave up when the wool stuck to his rough tongue.
     Our love of wool is ancient. Humans have been wearing wool since the Stone Age! Our distant ancestors recognized wool’s warmth, but I wonder if they knew it was naturally flame resistant. Fred and Wilma Flintstone could have cuddled a little closer to the campfire had they known. The US Military is one of the largest consumers of our country’s wool largely for this flame resistant classification.
     In Biblical times too, wool was used in connection with military combat, but not how you might think. In one of history’s greatest battles, the scene opens in Judges 6:37 with the invasion of Israel. They have been very bad and God allowed their enemies to conquer them as a consequence.  The scriptures specifically mention whenever the Israelites planted a crop, the invaders came and destroyed it. The Lord answered their cries for help by choosing Gideon to lead the revolt.  He protested saying he was the least in his family and his clan was the weakest in the land. The Lord promised to be with him, but since he was already questioning God’s presence due to the destroyed crops issue, he asked for a sign. He asked God to make a fleece wet with dew but the ground all around it remain dry. The next morning he wrung a bowl full of dew out of that fleece.  And then again, just to make sure, he asked for a second sign, this time for the fleece to be dry but the ground around it be soaked with dew…which indeed came to pass the next morning.  An important lesson not to miss is that Gideon moved forward with God’s instructions even during his doubt. He tore down the false idols his town was guilty of worshiping (working at night because he was afraid), and he rallied several thousand troops ready to fight. Doubt didn’t paralyze him and he was faithful…as was God.  Gideon ended up chasing away his enemies with a mere 300 men making a lot of noise.
     Oftentimes the outcome of the battle relies on remembering God is sovereign.  Also we must recognize our enemy.  Jesus warns us to “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” (Matthew 7:15) I don’t ever mean to be irreverent but I can’t help it, I’m a product of Saturday morning cartoons and whenever I hear that verse, I imagine Sam the Sheepdog and Ralph the Wolf punching the time clock and then spending the day trying to steal and protect the sheep.  Ralph the Wolf would often disguise himself as a sheep and once even tried passing himself off as the Sheepdog!  The reality is, we can be easily deceived unless we study to know the truth.
     The children in the nursery rhyme ask “Why does the lamb love Mary so? Mary so? Mary so?”, and the teacher replies “because Mary loves the lamb you know…” In parting, let’s consider this: Perhaps the best way to not get the wool pulled over our eyes is to simply love the Lamb.

 “Oh this one is too squishy! Ugh! This one is like sleeping on a rock! Hey, now this one is a perfect combination, not too hard and not too soft! It’s like being on a cloud.” Mattress shopping can be a bit overwhelming but mom, my cousin, and I made it fun as we rolled around on all the beds in the affordable corner of the show room. We finally chose one that was “just right“. I couldn’t help but think how we were like three Goldilocks testing and evaluating each one. 
     It seems the famous fairytale has become ingrained in our culture as we are always trying to obtain what feels just right – jobs, relationships, our identity, churches, etc. God reminds us not to give too much merit to our feelings when we are making a decision because feelings change. And we all have different views and feelings on subjects. Instead, He encourages us to constantly seek what HE tells us is “just right”. Proverbs chapter 3:5-6  “Trust the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.“ 
     Goldilocks has even found her way into science. There is a theory called the Goldilocks Zone or Principal that accurately describes physical laws that govern the universe down to the minute detail being exactly what we need for life to exist. We are the precise distance from the sun to be warm enough like Goldilocks’ porridge… Not too hot and not too cold but just right. 
     Back to the mattress selection—it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the importance of where we sleep. Mom always said, “If you can simply get enough rest you can handle almost anything the next day. “ It’s true, operating on little sleep can make even small setbacks or challenges seem overwhelming. As kids we didn’t care much where we slept. Youths are resilient like that. We slept anywhere, even on a hot beach crammed in the truck bed on a mattress packed tightly with piled up bags of vacation clothes…and lots of sand. Once my daughter was at a sleepover and said she got cold in the night and had to sleep under a sheer curtain still on the rod that she found stashed in a closet. And my cousin Brenda once complained about her pillow, observing it had large chunks of cut up couch foam in it. I remember raising up my pillow from across the room offering it to her. I held it high in the air between two fingers and we both fell into a fit of giggles when she saw it was about as thick as a piece of cardboard. 
     We were in good company—In Genesis 28:11 and 18 Jacob used a stone for a pillow. In 1 Samuel 19:13 Michael used a pillow and mattress of goats hair. And in psalm 6:6 there was mention of a tear soaked pillow. Tears or sleep-slobbers aside, Hank Locklin wrote a famous country song asking his darlin to send him the pillow that she dreamed on so he could dream on it too…
     The pillows and mattresses in the show room all promised rest, but we three seekers knew how to wade through to find truth. False claims in life might distract us but Jesus said come to Him and He will give us true rest. 
     The Doobie Brothers 1972 hit lyrics using slang of the decade to mean cool say: “Jesus is just alright with me”.  But let’s let Goldilocks attitude take the commitment one level higher— when faced with a showroom of options, I find Jesus to be “Just Right!” And that’s better than a dream come true.
 

 Did you ever see a toad jump into the swamp or throw a rock into the river and appreciate the concentric circles from the ripple effect? Country kids learn very early how even the smallest of things influence what’s around it. 
      In addition to water, we can also see concentric circles in wood. It’s amazing how each ring tells a chapter (or year) in the tree’s story. One particular tree that could have a novel was the historic Webster Sycamore in Webster Springs, WV.  It was not cut during the 1920-50’s timber boom but was left standing as a testament to the virgin forests that once covered the entire state.  When my kids were little we visited Big Sycamore Park and had our photo taken with the natural celebrity, and like all special things, we miss it now that it’s gone. The tree had to be felled in 2010 due to its unsafe condition but in its heyday it stood 112 feet tall with a girth circumference of 25.75 ft. It dated back to 1508, making it over 500 years old. Imagine the story it told in those circle lines!
     Dart boards, targets, simple garden onions and planetary orbits around the sun are also concentric circles, but still the most common are water ripples. The “ripple effect” is actually a theory that occurs when an initial disturbance spreads outward to disturb an increasingly larger portion. Here’s a family vacation story that gives the theory credence. We were enjoying a break from the New Jersey beach and decided to go shopping. Jeff was in charge of our son who was only two, while I chose our daughter who was slightly older and a better shopper. As we made our way through the sea of bathing suits, our son darted in and out of the circular clothing racks like a quick elusive sand crab. I could tell my husband was having a difficult time keeping up with him but I didn’t look back—until I heard a loud desperate “WHOOOOOAH!” Guessing it was coming from my crew, I slowly turned around and saw Jeff feverishly struggling with a scantily clad mannequin our son had pushed over. His steely eyes of determination told me our family could still walk out with a sliver of dignity-- if only she didn’t touch the floor! And so they “danced” like Whirling Dervishes. Onlookers gasped as he made his heroic Super Bowl save. I laughed until I cried, because I’m supportive like that.  As we herded our troops proudly out the door, I stole a glance back and noted the forlorn mannequin’s bikini top hung down around her waist and her disheveled wig was sideways! Yes, sometimes a disturbance spreads out and affects what’s around it. 
    In Beth Guckenberger’s book Throw the First Punch she writes about brave biblical David, who threw a stone which didn’t disturb water but still caused an epic ripple effect.  With it he slayed the giant and saved his people, and preserved the lineage of Jesus. Guckenberger says, “When I think about the  stone I can throw, I inventory the gifts, abilities, resources, experiences, and tools in my hand I can raise against our enemy (satan)”  What “rocks” do we possess that could cause a ripple effect for generations of purpose?
    Usually we think of the initial disturbance coming from an outside source, i.e. a two-year-old or a stone thrown. But recently I photographed our now grown daughter in the middle of the pond and considered how in life’s circumstances, sometimes it’s actually the thing in the middle of the situation that can move to cause a ripple effect. What if, with the slightest movement, if we are brave enough to move, we might cause a life-altering ripple for good? So wherever change is needed—let’s put on our muck boots and step into it…and may the resulting concentric circles tell a new story.

Before expensive suntan lotions, Mom and Aunt Hilda used good old- fashioned cow’s butter.  They’d get all greased up and then go hoe corn… or lie on the tin porch roof.  I’m not sure what SPF butter has but I’m confident in saying it can’t compete with the reflective properties of a tin roof.  (A funny aside was a little incident concerning the sun-bathing roof. One morning, in their haste they emptied the chamber pot out the upstairs bedroom window. Unbeknownst to them, there was a man visiting Pap outside standing merely inches from the stream of “acid rain” pouring off the roof!  It wasn’t addressed then and it probably shouldn’t have been now;)
  As a child, it was a big event to crawl out onto the porch roof to retrieve a badminton birdie or Frisbee.  Sometimes we’d linger and survey the farm from our new perspective.  My bed was next to a window directly over the porch so when it rained, that roof made music. When we played volleyball the rule was we played off the roof as it was still considered in-bounds. And the roof was an integral element to our favorite game of Annie Over. 
     Sometimes roofing nails work themselves out of place and need hammered down. Recently terrible winds were blowing a large sheet of tin back and forth on the tractor shed. It was quite the rodeo ride but I finally got it secured thanks to Mom’s guidance on the ground. Parents are good at telling us where to put our feet for stability and what needs to be hammered in because they often see things we can’t.
     In 2 Samuel 11:2 a storm was brewing but it wasn’t wind…While strolling on his rooftop, King David spotted a woman next door bathing, which ultimately led his life on a trajectory riddled with bad decisions. The nails were coming out of his solid foundation. Lust can blow the roof off like a tornado if it’s not hammered down with some Godly nails.
          Then there was this group of men in Mark 2:4 and Luke 5:19 who didn’t repair the roof but actually tore it apart just so they could lower their buddy down through the hole. He was paralyzed and they knew he’d be healed if they could just get him to Jesus who was teaching inside the crowded house.
        Matthew 24:17, Mark 13:15, and Luke 17:31 all describe Jesus’ prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem in which He instructed the people to escape by fleeing along the rooftops quickly, not taking time to go down into their homes for any possessions. The houses were probably close together with flat roofs that made an elevated road of sorts.  If God gives us a means of escape and tells us what path to take, we’d be wise to listen.
     One of my favorite images of a biblical rooftop is found in Acts 10:9, “On the next day, as they were on their way and approaching the city, Peter went up on the housetop about the sixth hour to pray.”  It reminds me that we sometimes need to get a new perspective on things and prayer can help us do this. I accompanied our church youth group on a mission trip to Guatemala and it was a beautiful sight on our hotel roof. Teenagers were scattered about sitting quietly doing their morning devotions as the tropical sun began to warm the breeze blowing clouds around the dormant volcano in the background. 
     This ole farmgirl appreciates a good roof. My hopes are that we all have one over our heads (or under our feet), have good friends who never give up on getting closer to Jesus, and that we seek scriptures to nail down truth in the storm or show us an escape route from destruction. I’d also propose if we do climb out on a roof, let’s leave the butter and take our bible.

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not…I remember plucking out the velvety white daisy petals one by one as my best friend and I eagerly waited to see how my grade school crush felt about me. The truth would be revealed as the last petal was pulled. It was intense!  But of course that was before cell phones and we were easily entertained with nature and simple things.
     Another important source of information was a dandelion. We’d blow on it and however many fluffy seeds were left on the ball represented how many children we were going to have one day. We’d go light-headed trying to blow them all off! These pretty yellow flowers, originally brought over with the first settlers, were once deemed valuable for food and medicine and popular in gardens in Europe.  But then someone decided that a well-manicured lawn void of the free-spirited dandelions was a status symbol. Big herbicide companies have further brain-washed us into thinking they are annoying weeds. But the truth is dandelions are valuable pollinators! Even though they don’t require pollination to spread, they just avail themselves for the bees! And the entire plant is edible with considerable health benefits.
     My mom says we often have a greater appreciation for things the more we know about them. She’s thankful her teacher (and mother), Olga Balli-Harris, taught her students a new flower every day. They learned about the natural world on the hillside, in the woods, and field below their one-room school.  Mom says to this day she can still identify many of the wildflowers on the farm because of her mom’s lessons. It’s satisfying if we can truly “see” what we’re looking at. 
    Common flowers we see in the mountains are mayapples with their unmistakable umbrella shaped leaves. When Mom and her sister, Hilda, were young girls, they joined their cousins Edzel and Basil Pugh in a business venture digging mayapple roots. After the roots were dried on a tar-paper roof, the boys’ dad sold them at a farmers’ market in Weston. Story has it, to make the time go faster; the kids would play church while they dug. And one of them, (mom refused to name names to protect the “innocent”), could mimic a specific church elder praying with great enthusiasm and accuracy—even the tone of his voice.
     Speaking of voices, in scripture the voice of God has been represented by wind, sometimes strong and forceful and sometimes like a gentle breeze.  John 3:8 “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof…” Some scholars say “ the wind blows” really translates into “The Spirit breathes”. Can you imagine the power and purpose in the Breath of God?  When the disciples were to scatter like dandelion seeds and plant the Gospel , Jesus breathed on them. “And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost.” (John 20:22)
      In 1962 Bob Dylan released a song, “Blowin’ in the Wind” which became an anthem for that era.  It highlighted people’s lack of concern-- “How many times can a man turn his head and pretend he just doesn’t see?”  And it highlighted spiritual blindness--“How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky?”  Answers can be difficult to identify even when we’re looking right at them. But, if we listen for God’s voice, the truth can become as evident as dandelion seeds set in motion by a breath or a breeze.  Allowing wind to symbolize the Holy Spirit, “The answer, my friend, is blowin in the Wind. The answer is blowin in the Wind.” And as for that daisy?  I know when we pluck the LAST proverbial petal the answer will be as it always has been, “HE loves me.”