The show first aired January 15, 1974.
Its main character was a young boy we all knew as Opie.
Opie grew up and became Richie Cunningham before our very eyes.
A cast of characters that we welcomed into our living rooms for ten years.

I was almost fifteen years old when the show first aired.
Just the right age to be smitten.
Intrigued by the sweater-wearing Richie and the leather-wearing Fonzie.
The same leather jacket that is now in the Smithsonian.

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As a book lover, my trip to Trinity College in Dublin was the highlight of my time there.
There among the cobbled stones, I went back to the 18th century.
That is when the magnificent Old Library building was constructed.
Inside that building is housed the Book of Kells, a 9th century Gospel manuscript.

The manuscript contains the four Gospels in Latin, written on vellum calfskin.
It is written in a bold and expert version of script known as “insular majuscule.”
After a Viking raid on the island of Iona in 806, monks took refuge in a monastery.
This is where the Book of Kells was written in all its extravagance and complexity.

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I met someone the other day that many would say was rough around the edges.
It was evident in the way they talked.
It was evident in the stories they told.
Rough around the edges or not, I enjoyed meeting this person.

They were real.
What you saw was what you got.
There was not a hint of pretense.
This is the kind of person someone would write off without giving them a second chance.

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The Reverend John Peter Gabriel Muhlenberg was a famous Patriot Pastor.
In January of 1776, he preached a sermon using a portion of text from Ecclesiastes.
To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven.
(Ecclesiates 3:1)

Pastor Muhlenberg stepped down from his pulpit that day and began to speak.
In the language of the Holy Writ, there is a time for all things.
There is a time to preach and a time to fight.
And now is the time to fight.

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If we were honest with ourselves, we would admit that we are all afraid of something.
Often the fears we have as a child are not the same fears we have as adults.
Sometimes they are.

Fear of thunderstorms or the dark may carry over into our adult life.
Fears of monsters under your bed brings a chuckle more than a wince.
Fears are real and need to be acknowledged.

Lightning hit our lamppost and blew out the switch plate next to the front door.
I was just a little girl and I was afraid of lightning for many years after that.
Horrible lightning storms with crashing thunder were difficult for me growing up.

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Outside my kitchen window is a crepe myrtle tree.
It brings a smile to my face the moment it begins to bud.
I look out each morning as I am at the sink to note its progress.
The quiet, invisible process that is going on beneath the surface.

The blossoms of this particular crepe myrtle are pink.
When the blossoms are in full bloom, the boughs are heavy laden.
The landscaper that takes care of things each spring, had to prune it back.
Some of the lower limbs were bowing down over the walkway.

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Did you ever ponder the amazing order in our world?
It is not something we routinely think about.
It is something we often take for granted.

As I was on my walk, a few large planes flew overhead.
I marveled at the ability to fly people from one place to another.
The plane’s resemblance to a bird was uncanny.

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As we drove down a road near our house, we saw the tree.
It stood there in the center of a field silhouetted against the sky.
The light that time of early evening seemed to highlight the beauty of the tree.
I really want to take a a picture of that tree, my youngest daughter said as we passed.

Loving photography as much as she does, she would be the one to capture its beauty.
I would love to take a picture of that tree in every season.
She made a mental note to do just that.
We continued on to our destination; I knew she was planning the shots in her head.

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Michael Card, a Christian music artist and Bible teacher, said something I often ponder.
Your life is a parable.
He often says to listen to the story of your life.

Paul, the apostle, wrote, You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. (2 Corinthians 3:2)
The parabolic life.
Do we take the time to listen to the parable of our life?

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One-Two-Three-Four-Five.
The little boy counted as he waited for his mother in line.
The line was long and he was trying to keep busy since waiting is hard work.
As each person came nearer to the customer service desk, he began to count again.

One-Two-Three-Four-Five; There’s still five, he exclaimed delightedly.
I knew that this accurate little counter would continue until his mother was finished.
I was thoroughly enjoying his excitement.
Every time someone finished and left the counter, a new person got in line.

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