So, if you have followed me even for a bit, you might know that I really love music. Seriously love. I guess it started when I was really little. My dad played guitar and sang in his own band. I know. Awesome, right?
I remember it like it was yesterday. I had this sweet, little, blonde-haired, blue-eyed treasure. I had just put her down to bed and I promptly called my mom.
She turned 74 on April 2. I can actually remember when she turned 40. She has always been beautiful and age is not a thief of that to her. She is the nicest person I have ever known and I know many, many people would agree.
To me, she is Mom. To many she is Mom, Grandma, Aunt Rikki, friend.
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Watch me safely through the night.
And wake me with the morning light.
I remember those words so clearly. It was the nighttime prayer that we said with our girls for many, many years. Of course our girls, to this very day, could probably tell you verbatim what they spoke next– “I’m special. I’m a Winner. Jesus loves me.”
Oh he does, he does.
And there it was. I was driving out of the neighborhood, headed to the grocery store, when I spotted it. It was a familiar darkish-orange and yellow. It was shaped like a little car. It was a Cozy Coupe! It was sitting in the front yard of a neighbor and, to top it off, the car was smiling at me. I immediately had to take a picture. It brought back a flood of memories.
It’s a cold March morning here in Virginia and I am listening to music. I love music! Love it! I really love all genres of music. So, have you ever heard that song “Come to the Altar” by Elevation Worship? “Come to the Altar” is such a blessing to me each and every time I hear it. What does that mean though? Come to the Altar? Which altar? I don’t have an altar, or so we think.