I grew up in a family that oozes music. My Mom and siblings sing and most play various instruments. Even Dad, who claimed he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, had a beautiful singing voice. I was the exception. The only keyboard I can play is the one I’m typing on. It took a while, but I finally discovered my own unique musical talent.

I am the audience! I offer enthusiastic applause. I clap and dance in my seat as I watch and listen to the artistry of the performance. I sing along when my voice can blend with many others. My talent is appreciation!

Here is a link to a free download of a song written and performed by Amber and Ewald and their band made up of her brothers. Their song was featured as the anthem for a multi-national Global Prayer Conference recently held at Krakow, Poland. It’s called “Standing with Israel.”

And here is an excerpt I wrote about them from my book REFLECTIONS OF A MISFIT.

Big Dreams

Our gifted niece Amber grew up in a musical family. My brother Dan’s band played our high school dances, and he and his guitar were inseparable. When he married, he and his wife Cindy had six children. Each of them learned to play an instrument or two, sang, and learned the mechanics of setting up a sound system, a stage, and recording their music. They made some wonderful CD’s as a family, and have led worship in many different venues.

Amber and her husband Ewald have produced a CD with music they wrote and performed together. She plays keyboard and he, a master guitarist, gives his guitar voice. They both sing to honor and worship the Lord.

God gave her a dream that they would one day praise God in front of a vast audience. She’s concerned that the dream is of her own making, and that her desire to fulfill it comes from pride. It seems God might have a different view.

“Good people, cheer God! Right-living people sound best when praising. Use guitars to reinforce your Hallelujahs! Play praise on a grand piano! Invent your own new song to him; give him a trumpet fanfare.” (Psalm 33:1-3)

It sounds to me as if King David was speaking directly to her! Guitar, piano, writing your own song – it’s all there. She and her husband are following God’s directions. Wouldn’t it be more prideful to refuse to use the gifts God gave them? His people need worship leaders!

“Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.” (Psalm 34:9)

If God gave her that dream of leading the worship of multitudes, he will fulfill it. When it happens, I want to be in the audience to fully participate in cheering God. I can hardly wait!

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It seems as if God is already fulfilling her dream with this song.

Did your parents read to you when you were little? Do you remember the books they read, or the ones you might have read to your little ones? Our parents opened up worlds and dimensions, history and adventure by reading to us until we could read for ourselves.

We kids didn’t know we were supposed to read age-appropriate books. We read everything we could get our hands on. We grew up in Germany and Italy and didn’t have a television in the house. We checked stacks of books out of the post library every week, and read them all.

I read Ernest Hemingway and Robert A. Heinlein before middle school. I cried for Anne Frank and Corrie Ten Boom, and wanted so much for Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler to live happily ever after. I read classics and romances, mysteries and fantasy epics. I soared over Pern on Anne McAffrey’s dragons and fell in love with the natives of Fletcher Christian’s Pitcairn Island.  I traveled to new worlds, traversed time and dimensions, and found my faith through the written word.

I found this treasure of an article with a list of 25 read-aloud books. There are some I haven’t read yet! I will, though. I certainly will. Grandkids, gather around. Gramma wants to read to you.

My soon-to-be ex-husband hated motorcycles, so I bought a burgundy Honda 350 Custom bike. He also hated snakes, and my daughter wanted one, so we acquired a lovely little Ball Python. Was I spiteful? Heck, yes. But I’d always loved to ride (as a passenger), and I’d always wanted a snake. Keeping the snake in a warm terrarium was easy, but I had one little problem.

I didn’t know how to handle a motorcycle.

In order to add it to my license, I had to take a free state-run riding course. It was a no-brainer.

I liked the little 100cc bike provided by the state, until I had the distinction of being the only person in the history of the course to wipe out around an easy curve. I got right back up, laughed, picked up the bike and finished the course. It must have impressed Tom, the instructor, because he bought me a coke afterward and we talked about things we enjoy. The conversation got around to flying.

“Have you ever been in a helicopter?” he asked.

“Once,” I answered. “We flew in a gigantic military chopper over the Alps from Italy to Germany. I thought I’d never regain my hearing.”

“How would you like to fly in a small chopper over Philadelphia?” he asked.

When he noticed my skeptical look, he said, “My friend Walt does the traffic report on the news. He sometimes takes passengers along, if it’s for a good cause. You can say you’re writing an article about it.”

The next day, Walt McDonald himself called and invited me to fly along. Heck, YES!

I met the pilot, Walt and Tom on the helipad at Jonathan’s Landing where a tall sailing ship had been permanently moored. They handed me headphones with the mic turned off. I was able to hear Walt’s live traffic report and wasn’t deafened by the engine noise. They, in turn, could not hear me every time I yelled “Wow” or “Will you look at that!” Thankfully, neither did the rest of the folks listening to the traffic report.

We rose above the masts, turned toward the city and flew by Ben Franklin standing on top of Philadelphia City Hall. We covered the major roadways around the city and through the suburbs.

The view from the air was stunning that close to the ground. We flew low over summer green forests and fields; waved at people in their backyard pools; and saw a herd of deer run from the chopper noise in the park. I noticed that the helicopter banked differently than fixed-wing aircraft. Instead of leaning down to turn, it seemed to flip up on its side.

Walt reported a burning car, an accident on the freeway, and advised where to avoid congested traffic. We were in the air for two wonderful hours. I thanked Tom, Walt and the pilot and went home to ride my bike for the first time.

It’s been a few years since I said I’d write an article about that flight. Consider it done. Now stay tuned for the rest of the story….