In 1957, we were living in California.  I told Ken I wanted a real marimba.  Concert sized.  A new concert marimba cost thousands of dollars--which then was a huge hunk of money we didn't have.  Ken told me to look for one.  So I started watching for used musical instrument sales in the Los Angeles paper.

A marimba was advertised, so we went to look at it--having no idea how much it would cost.  The lady who owned it invited us in.  I told her I was interested in buying it and she said, "I don't know if I want to sell it to you!  Where are you planning on playing it?"  I told her I played for church and civic groups regularly.

She said, "Play for me."  So I did.  I played for a long, long time. Everything I knew. (I was a lot better back then than I am now--age stiffens your wrists.) 

When I finished playing, I asked her if she would sell it to me .  And if she did, how much it cost--expecting a price well over eight hundred dollars.

She asked me, "How much money do you have?"  I told her.  "Seventy-five dollars." But I told her I would pay it out if she would let me buy it.  She replied, "The price is seventy-five dollars."  I was shocked to say the least.  "Why are you selling it to me for such a low price!" I asked her.

"I played for many many years with the Los Angeles symphony orchestra," she said.  But I have arthritis and my doctor said I have to sell it. Because I can't pass by my marimba without stopping to play it, and I'm destroying my hands. I've been waiting for someone to come along that had the ability to play. Someone who will use it to play for people for the rest of their life."

I've been playing ever since.  Yesterday, I played two arrangements for an assisted living residence when our senior choir sang. I bought my marimba sixty three years ago.  I've been playing ever since. I'll play as long as my hands last.

The most powerful Christian stories are the personal ones.  Every Christian has one.  There came a moment when God whispered in your heart and you responded.

I was seven or eight.  Hershel Hobbs was preaching a revival.  I had no idea what salvation was all about, but I heard that voice in my soul, stepped out and went forward.  My uncle Cleo--a deacon--was at the front and asked me did I want to follow Jesus--and I said yes.  

The pastor probably explained the plan of salvation and repentance.  But how much sin does a seven year old have to repent from??  I don't remember feeling sinful or repentant.  I just wanted to be a child of God.  That's it.

The thing about childhood conversions is that from that moment on, God's got you.  He's not going to let you out of his hand.  He will speak to you again and again.  And He did.  Every time I felt that tug, I responded.  I learned that when God speaks, you answer.  You may not understand it all, but you are responding to what you know.  And you know God is speaking to you.

There came a day when not only did I accept Jesus as the sacrifice for my sins, not only was I repentant, not only was I baptized, not only had I given him my life to deal with however He saw fit-------I finally trusted Him.

Trust means you are willing to accept whatever happens to you, but also whatever happens, whatever God wants for your family.  Your husband and children.  For me, that was the hard part.  Giving him my life was easy.  Telling him I was relinquishing control of my family to Him was hard.  

He had them anyway, but I hadn't let go.  I thought I was in control.  You might as well let go. They were His first----and still are.  

I lost the video of the asteroid hitting the Gulf on "Drain the Oceans."  When I went to save it, I deleted it.  I'm looking for it.  If any of you find it, send me an email on how to get it back again.

After teaching the "Gap" theory for fifty years, it's nice when science validates the Bible.  Finally.

I went to our church revival last night and the speaker was Caleb Freeman.  He was in an accident two years ago when he was 16, in a coma for months, given up for dead.  He had an awesome story and the film industry is now doing a documentary about him.

The family had taken pictures of his journey from day one and it was unbelievable to watch his progress from brain dead, slowly emerging.  Relearning to use his feet, hands body control, and speech.  He fought his way through it in a dramatic series of steps.  He's still fighting.

He could speak, walk, and use his hands.  Barely.  You had to listen carefully.  The hour was one of those times that if you had known ahead what was going to be said, you would have invited the world to come.

His testimony for Christ was awesome.  He had been shy, now he speaks, cracks jokes and generally lifts the spirits of those who listen.  He went from being a young healthy sixteen year old athlete to being a broken body full of fight--who has a powerful message about the grace of God.

Two years ago, he said he would never have spoken to a crowd, he was too shy. Now he is changed into a dynamic funny witness to the power of God in your life.  His message:  you need a personal relationship with Jesus.  I'll say Amen to that.

I found out something the other night watching "Drain the Oceans."  The program used some wizardry to drain the Gulf of Mexico.  The result was a crater impact scar with sediment thrown up into mile high walls of strata surrounding a deep chasm, caused by an astroid that was humongous.

Following the impact, sulfur compounds from the earth were thrown into the air and began to circle the earth, blocking out the sun and burning until the sky was black. Green vegetation died. Then the food chain began to die--until nothing much was left. No vegetation resulted in no land animals. 

The team of scientists said that this impact in the Gulf was conclusively the trigger for the abrupt death of the dinosaurs world wide--all at once.  Leaving only life in the waters.  The sulphur in the atmosphere burned for a long time cutting out sunlight.  Dinosaurs going extinct all at once was a puzzle to evolution theorists. No animals in strata for eons, then mammals appear.  

Genesis 1:2, "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep..." Without form:  Earth got knocked off its axis?  Void:  Everything on earth died?  Darkness on the face of the deep: Skies are burning sulfur, blotting out the sun?

I have mentioned the "Gap Theory" before.  The gap between the dinosaurs and mammalian life.  Well, there it is.  Until the sulfur burned out, nothing lived on land to reproduce.  Then, "The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.  And God said, "Let there be light..." it had been there all along, since Gen. 1:1 when he created it.  He didn't have to create it a second time after vs. 2."

And what we call the "creation story" is Genesis, verse one.  Verse two begins the restoration story--after the gap.  And don't get hung up on the "days."  A day is one rotation.  Who knows how long a rotation was after earth got knocked off its axis?? (Which is recorded in polar magnetism in rocks.)

Rebecca Perkins just reminded me I forgot to post.  I've been at the dentist's office.

I'm going to give myself a hall pass for today.

I'll do better tomorrow.

I am hooked on Dr. Pol.  I have learned a lot of things.  How to pull a calf, how to recognize polio in a goat, how to set a broken llama leg, and on and on.

The first degree I got was in Pre-med.  My plan was to go to med school.  Ken was back from Viet Nam and told me to go do whatever I wanted to do.  He said I had been a good sport being dragged around the country while he finished his career as a Marine Pilot.  He told me he would be a house-husband.

But I got a tumor in my heart, which once removed, left me pretty helpless.  My two girls took over with the help of a woman who came in to assist.  It was complicated by the fact that Jonathan was one year old at the time--our unexpected surprise.  I was useless for a long time. 

Three years later when I was finally back on my feet, I realized I would never be the same physically, so I gave up on med school, but never lost the fascination of surgical medicine.  I watch Dr. Pol.  I went back to school and got a math degree--and taught at NEO.  

It satisfies something to watch Dr. Pol.  Lots of blood and gore, and sewing up rips and tears.  Cutting and stitching.  I was a seamstress.  Maybe that's why it appeals to me.  I always felt satisfied when I fitted a sleeve to a bodice and it was perfect.  Or taped up one of my kids who had ripped skin that needed to be smoothed back into place and taped and kissed.

Friday night, I thought I broke a bone in my wrist.  I caught it in a cabinet, then fell backwards until the wrist was completely distended.  My solution was a popsicle stick and tape.  Nobody else agreed with me.  

Turned out I just bruised the bone.  It's still sore.  No, I didn't go get it X-rayed or cast.  It's just going to hurt for a few days. 

Today, I am making meatloaf.  I'll get it all ready to bake and put it in the oven in the morning.  My connection group is having a pot luck Saturday.  

Then some of us are going to the movie to see Downtown Abbey.  If you didn't watch the series on television, you probably aren't hooked.  I can't think what the movie will add.  Will it be new material?  Or old?

I have a stress test this morning.   They used to do have you do the stress test on a treadmill, now they inject you and race your heart.  Very uncomfortable.  I don't like them.  At all.  Oh well, I have to do it every now and then.

The worst part of tests like that is that I can't eat or drink anything beforehand. 
I like to eat.  All day long.  They are doing the test at 9:00 and I woke up at 5:00.  It's going to be a long four hours before breakfast. 

Scott called me yesterday to ask if his great-grandfather really played the fiddle and the harmonica and why he (Scott) didn't know about that.  Lives are lost to history in three generations if someone doesn't write something down.  I guess I just never told anyone that before.  

I know things about my grandmother's dad and mom because she talked about them.  Great-grand father George died when my Gran was a baby.  My Gran's mother's name was Sarah.  Sarah died when my grandmother was a few years old.  So my Gran was an orphan; her older sister raised her.  My Gran married at fourteen--she always would say, "I was almost fifteen."

I guess that was common back then to get married young.  Especially when life overtook you.  So I'm not going to complain about a stress test that keeps me going.  God has been good to our generation.  My great-grandparents had a hard life and both died very young.