My son sent a text to the family.
He was telling all of us that his four-and-a-half year old daughter was taking piano lessons.
Her teacher is a young woman with an obvious love of both children and music.
Lessons are basic and introductory, but the motivation to learn to play is there.

My son and daughter-in-love are very musical.
Music is always heard in their house.
Their two daughters cannot help but be surrounded by it.
They are catching their Mommy and Daddy’s enthusiasm and the sheer joy of music.

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It’s a tricky thing to tell a story.
Get your facts wrong and the story is untrue.
Get your facts right, but tell it in the first person, and you may get too close to self promotion.
Tell the story just right and, prayerfully, it blesses many.

My dear friend and I went to a local coffee shop.
We usually talk weekly and pray on the phone.
With my new grandbaby and the Thanksgiving holiday, it had been a while since we talked.
I knew we would be sitting at the table in the coffee shop for hours.

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When I was a little girl, getting new shoes was so exciting.
Those were the days of shoe stores and small benches with an incline on which to put your foot.
Those were the days of shoe salesmen who went to the back room to bring out the size you needed.
The mysterious back room, from which boxes of every shoe you could desire, came.

The shoe salesman removed your shoe and actually put the new shoe on your feet.
You had to wear socks or tights for sanitary reasons.
You could never try on shoes if you were barefoot.
To this day, I still hold onto those same rules.

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I was in the checkout line and was thoroughly enjoying the British accent of the cashier.
I listened to the way she made the most common words sound like music.
When my items were the ones she was scanning, she began to talk to me.
Love the look, she said pleasantly.

I thought she meant the look of a shirt I was buying.
I commented that it was a good price.
I don’t mean the shirt; I mean YOUR look!
I must have looked a bit confused.

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Our back stairs are being used again for an interesting purpose.
When my children were young, they each had their own back stair.
It was not assigned to them.
It just sort of became their step because of age and height.

Each child had a step on which he/she put their shoes.
I never wanted the shoes on the inside mat, since it made opening the door a problem.
The back stairs was the perfect place to put their shoes when they came home.
Since they often went up and down the stairs that way, their shoes were right there.

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There she was in her wedding dress.
A picture of loveliness.
A picture of purity.
She was going to walk down the aisle towards her best friend.

No one knew what she wore under her wedding dress.
Only a few people thought they got a glimpse of it as she walked.
It was the perfect thing to wear, if you knew her.
The bride wore sneakers.

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I remember something I used to tell my children when they didn’t know the answer to a question.
It is OK not to know something; it is not OK not to know it, twice.
In that grammatically interesting sentence there is an important truth.
We cannot possibly know everything, but it is possible for us to find the answer.

That training crept into my daughter’s classroom when she was a second grade teacher.
Children often say, I don’t know.
Sometimes, they truly don’t know.
Other times, it is a way not to answer a question when they are put on the spot.

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There is a question that begs to be answered.
If the government charged you with the crime of being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?

It is a sobering thought.
It suggests taking inventory of your life.
It requires a true assessment of your walk and your talk.
It demands honesty without justifying your actions or lack of action.

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I saw the car way ahead of me on the road.
I noticed there was colorful writing on the back window.
Since the car was a mini van, the back window provided a large canvas.
I intended to read what the writing said when I got closer.

Within minutes, I was directly behind the mini van.
I saw two stick figures drawn on the back window.
One stick figure was sad.
The other stick figure was smiling.

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A friend came over one morning last week.
As soon she got into my kitchen, she apologized for the need to make a phone call.
She was scheduling her car for some new tires.
There was a little back and forth about time and procedure.

Apparently the person on the other end of the phone call asked her name.
She answered with the inflection of a question.
She was asked her address.
Her inflection was the same.

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