"Babe, what are you going to do? Are you going to have them copy the map on paper or trace it? Do you have a song for that memory work? I'm just saying...people are paying for this and they have expectations!"
Last week was our Classical Conversations Parent Practicum. Mike was asked to teach the GeoArt camp and he happily accepted. I happily went to work micromanaging my perfectly capable husband. I wrote the lesson plans, made the copies, checked out books...I was going to be sure the week was a success and one more teeny tiny thing...make sure that I looked good. Yikes! My flesh is nasty, but as usual, I learned a little something.
At the end of the week the camps come in to give a quick sampling of all they have learned. Mike's group was going to do their chant of the highest peaks on each continent (do you know them?). So, he walked up and a few friends looked at me and grinned. I was excited. So they did their little thing and they really did a fantastic job. It was great! My one friend commented on how he had to live up to the name and I laughed and responded, "Yeah, I told him, I've made a name for us...you better not let the Wessner name down!" HAHAHA I also muttered something about having "pumps to fill" even though I don't often wear pumps. Anyway...they did a great job and he didn't let the Wessner name down.
Here's why he didn't let the name down...it's his name too! In fact, now that I think about it, it was his name first!!! Jiminey Christmas! He's been a Wessner a lot longer than I have been. He knew Ruth and Arthur, those brave souls that raised 5 boys in a Pennsylvania row home. He knew the Wessner's that I named my children after, and never met. He was raised a Wessner. He has Wessner ears and brains. He knows the name.
I've carried the name for almost 12 years. I carried another name. I know the power of a name. I know that when you have a good name it's worth far more than riches. I know that if you do something good folks remember your name. I know if you do something horrible...folks will never forget your name. I carry the Wessner name, and I also carry someone else's name.
Every time I mention Him, I am claiming His name. I find myself telling Him what I told my husband. "Don't screw up. People are watching you. I've made a good name for you, don't you go messing it up by not showing up and showing off!" I love the Lord, He says the same thing, "Ali, sweetheart, it was my name first." HE is the One that has made a name for himself. He should be telling me not to screw things up or He'll look like an idiot...not the other way around. Still, I count my awesomeness as so helpful to God. He totally needs me and is so glad to have me on His team. Really? Nah...He LETS me play on His team. He is glad to have me...but only because of Christ. Not because I really bring a bunch to the table, in fact, if I bring ANYTHING it's because He gave it to give. So, as we've struggled with our house (not selling) and figuring out what we're supposed to do, I return to His Name. His Name above all names. The Name that saves and spares and redeems and refreshes. The Name that was and is and is to come. The Name that was the same yesterday, today and forever. The Name that I carry. The Name that was sealed in me through the Spirit poured out on me guaranteeing my inheritance.
So, I rest. Rest in the fact that His Name hems me in behind and before. I rest knowing that His Name will be exalted above all other names. I rest that I carry that name and because of Him I can't screw anything up. His Name is sovereign, not mine.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
Mostly Dead
"It seems that your friend here is only mostly dead." I love the Princess Bride. Miracle Max makes this assessment of Westley after he has spent some time in the Pit of Despair. I think for most of my Christian life I have been only "mostly dead."
That's weird isn't it? Christians should be fully alive. Hap-hap-happy all the time, right? Well, yes, but there is one problem, we have to die first. Even weirder, the Bible says that we were dead in our sins and that Christ brought us to life. Hmmm Certainly great blog material for someone way more skilled that myself. Here's what I'm thinking.
Galatians 2:20 states
"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."
Last night I was hanging out with Sweet Caroline while the rest of my family was enjoying an end of the year musical at my husband's school. I have spent time in many lobbies while the rest of my family sat in their seats, enjoying the performance, but I haven't always been glad about it. I realized the other night that I didn't mind. Not only that, but I was thankful for the opportunity. I thought, "I think I'm finally dead." That's a funny thought probably to some of you. But not to me. Most of you know I became a Christian in college at the age of 19 and a very familiar phrase was, "Die to the vision." We all had grandiose ideas of what we thought God could and should do in our lives, and more often than not we had to "die to the vision." Mostly because our vision was poor.
As I became a Mom I thought that I had to die to a lot of stuff. Bikinis for sure! Quick trips to the store for those last minute dinner items...or a dinner out without planning! Movies...sleeping in....the list goes on and on! I found myself getting frustrated regularly when things just didn't go my way. A nap was missed, or someone woke the sleeping person. Company stayed too long, or didn't come at all. You name it. I couldn't take it. I wasn't dead. I still had my own agenda. I had my own ideas about my days. I love Jesus. He has kept me by His side since He called me to Himself, but I am a slow learner and have been dying a slow death. My dreams for my house, for my children, for my spare time...they aren't mine. If I have been crucified with Christ...and He lives in me...I must surrender, "die to the vision." Something amazing is happening though. The more dead I become, the more alive I feel. I'm not so quick to freak out when I hear someone stir early. Or when someone doesn't eat, or eats too much or needs a bath...or a book...whatever it is. God is orchestrating all of my days. All of the days of my children as well. I can sit down and stop conducting. I can rest...I can die.
So, I'm still working it out in my head and in my life. But I think being "mostly dead" is where most of us live. We put in our two cents, sigh, roll our eyes, and struggle to rest...forgetting that the LIFE is found in The Death. Wow. Where else does death mean life, but in Christ?
So, this Mother's Day when I'm still "working" I'm going to dwell on dying. I'm going to rejoice at the opportunity to lay down my life for someone else and take joy in celebrating the Life that God has given me. How about you? Have you spent any time in the "pit of despair?" Are you, like Westley, only "mostly dead." Or are you completely dead with the only Life coming from The Only Life?
Hmmm.
That's weird isn't it? Christians should be fully alive. Hap-hap-happy all the time, right? Well, yes, but there is one problem, we have to die first. Even weirder, the Bible says that we were dead in our sins and that Christ brought us to life. Hmmm Certainly great blog material for someone way more skilled that myself. Here's what I'm thinking.
Galatians 2:20 states
"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."
Last night I was hanging out with Sweet Caroline while the rest of my family was enjoying an end of the year musical at my husband's school. I have spent time in many lobbies while the rest of my family sat in their seats, enjoying the performance, but I haven't always been glad about it. I realized the other night that I didn't mind. Not only that, but I was thankful for the opportunity. I thought, "I think I'm finally dead." That's a funny thought probably to some of you. But not to me. Most of you know I became a Christian in college at the age of 19 and a very familiar phrase was, "Die to the vision." We all had grandiose ideas of what we thought God could and should do in our lives, and more often than not we had to "die to the vision." Mostly because our vision was poor.
As I became a Mom I thought that I had to die to a lot of stuff. Bikinis for sure! Quick trips to the store for those last minute dinner items...or a dinner out without planning! Movies...sleeping in....the list goes on and on! I found myself getting frustrated regularly when things just didn't go my way. A nap was missed, or someone woke the sleeping person. Company stayed too long, or didn't come at all. You name it. I couldn't take it. I wasn't dead. I still had my own agenda. I had my own ideas about my days. I love Jesus. He has kept me by His side since He called me to Himself, but I am a slow learner and have been dying a slow death. My dreams for my house, for my children, for my spare time...they aren't mine. If I have been crucified with Christ...and He lives in me...I must surrender, "die to the vision." Something amazing is happening though. The more dead I become, the more alive I feel. I'm not so quick to freak out when I hear someone stir early. Or when someone doesn't eat, or eats too much or needs a bath...or a book...whatever it is. God is orchestrating all of my days. All of the days of my children as well. I can sit down and stop conducting. I can rest...I can die.
So, I'm still working it out in my head and in my life. But I think being "mostly dead" is where most of us live. We put in our two cents, sigh, roll our eyes, and struggle to rest...forgetting that the LIFE is found in The Death. Wow. Where else does death mean life, but in Christ?
So, this Mother's Day when I'm still "working" I'm going to dwell on dying. I'm going to rejoice at the opportunity to lay down my life for someone else and take joy in celebrating the Life that God has given me. How about you? Have you spent any time in the "pit of despair?" Are you, like Westley, only "mostly dead." Or are you completely dead with the only Life coming from The Only Life?
Sunday, April 22, 2012
COME AND GET IT!!!
"Good Humor ice cream! Cold soda, yogurt, froze fruit, candy and bubblegum! Good Humor! Over 80 different kinds of ice cream!" Then the bells again and then, "COME AND GET IT!!!"
I have no idea what his name was, where he was from or where he is now, but the "Good Humor Man" is probably one of my favorite childhood memories. I had the privilege of spending my summers on Long Beach Island (that would be the Jersey Shore) and I don't remember a year without the familiar sound of the bell and the voice.
The shore would be littered with brightly colored umbrellas and hard working folks from the tri-state area and beyond who were looking for a little break from monotony of their everyday. The ice cream men would come throughout the day and ring their bells from the top of the street. Most of them carried a bell that was made up of many bells and they had a more annoying chattering sound when shaken. Some of them would holler at the sandy folks and others would simply expect their bells to do the work for them. Not him.
He was much older, and weathered. The white hair that he had made a ring around his head leaving the top at the mercy of the sun. I don't remember him having any facial hair, maybe a mustache. Never clean shaven. He wore a white ribbed tank top and cut off blue jean shorts. His socks would pull up to mid shin and his loafers kept his feet safe from the sun warmed sand. He carried a cigar in one hand and the bell in the other. You could hear him walking from the road. He carried one bell. Similar to the kind in a hand bell choir, but one that worked much harder...or was harder worked rather. As he found his footing in the sand the bell would ring in time with his steps. We all knew it was him. You could heads look up and toward the street, checking, was this the guy? Then he'd begin ringing it....ring a ding a ding a ding a...then the mantra, "Good Humor ice cream! Cold soda yogurt, froze fruit, candy and bubblegum! Good Humor! Over eighty different kinds of ice cream!" Then there would be a ringing interlude, if you will, and then, "COME AND GET IT!" Boy would we. We'd all grab our dollars with our sea wet hands and scramble to get in line for what seemed to be the best ice cream ever!
As you approached the truck you could hear him talking with all of the kids that had rallied around to choose their memory. Mine? A snowcone. Almost every time. It seemed to last the longest. He'd say things like, "And for you sweetie?" He had a heavy accent, one that was so wonderful to me. It was rough and gentle. Spending my school months in GA made me enjoy listening to accents that didn't start with "y'all." He was kind...he was the Good Humor man.
Our school year just finished and for the end of the year "party" we decided to have an ice cream man come to the church where we meet (my kids are homeschooled, it was the last day of Classical Conversations or homeschooling group that we meet with once a week). We didn't tell the kids and they went nuts! Imagine getting to "order" what you want from the ice cream man. This man looked nothing like my "man" but he was good...and we all recounted our ice cream truck memories. This made me think of another call to "COME AND GET IT!" that is found in Isaiah 55
1 "Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine
and milk without money and without cost. 2 Why spend money
on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to
me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
3 Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live. I
will make an everlasting covenant with you, my faithful love promised to David.
4 See, I have made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and
commander of the peoples. 5 Surely you will summon nations you
know not, and nations that do not know you will hasten to you, because of the
LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has endowed you with splendor."
Everytime I hear this verse I think of those scattering and scampering up to that truck. Buzzing with excitement. We waited on him. We recognized his voice. We wanted what he was selling.
Are you thirsty? Are you broke and hungry? I want to invite you to come and drink of the water that will satisfy. Come, buy and eat...that your soul may live. Jesus is certainly more precious and valuable than any ice cream man, but this summer when you hear the music and your kids start clammoring for his wares...indulge them and then while their smiles are fresh and they are dripping with memories...share this with them. The One who calls us out of our poverty and into His splendor...satisfying us to the end of the age with His unfailing love.
COME AND GET IT!!!
I have no idea what his name was, where he was from or where he is now, but the "Good Humor Man" is probably one of my favorite childhood memories. I had the privilege of spending my summers on Long Beach Island (that would be the Jersey Shore) and I don't remember a year without the familiar sound of the bell and the voice.
The shore would be littered with brightly colored umbrellas and hard working folks from the tri-state area and beyond who were looking for a little break from monotony of their everyday. The ice cream men would come throughout the day and ring their bells from the top of the street. Most of them carried a bell that was made up of many bells and they had a more annoying chattering sound when shaken. Some of them would holler at the sandy folks and others would simply expect their bells to do the work for them. Not him.
He was much older, and weathered. The white hair that he had made a ring around his head leaving the top at the mercy of the sun. I don't remember him having any facial hair, maybe a mustache. Never clean shaven. He wore a white ribbed tank top and cut off blue jean shorts. His socks would pull up to mid shin and his loafers kept his feet safe from the sun warmed sand. He carried a cigar in one hand and the bell in the other. You could hear him walking from the road. He carried one bell. Similar to the kind in a hand bell choir, but one that worked much harder...or was harder worked rather. As he found his footing in the sand the bell would ring in time with his steps. We all knew it was him. You could heads look up and toward the street, checking, was this the guy? Then he'd begin ringing it....ring a ding a ding a ding a...then the mantra, "Good Humor ice cream! Cold soda yogurt, froze fruit, candy and bubblegum! Good Humor! Over eighty different kinds of ice cream!" Then there would be a ringing interlude, if you will, and then, "COME AND GET IT!" Boy would we. We'd all grab our dollars with our sea wet hands and scramble to get in line for what seemed to be the best ice cream ever!
As you approached the truck you could hear him talking with all of the kids that had rallied around to choose their memory. Mine? A snowcone. Almost every time. It seemed to last the longest. He'd say things like, "And for you sweetie?" He had a heavy accent, one that was so wonderful to me. It was rough and gentle. Spending my school months in GA made me enjoy listening to accents that didn't start with "y'all." He was kind...he was the Good Humor man.
Our school year just finished and for the end of the year "party" we decided to have an ice cream man come to the church where we meet (my kids are homeschooled, it was the last day of Classical Conversations or homeschooling group that we meet with once a week). We didn't tell the kids and they went nuts! Imagine getting to "order" what you want from the ice cream man. This man looked nothing like my "man" but he was good...and we all recounted our ice cream truck memories. This made me think of another call to "COME AND GET IT!" that is found in Isaiah 55
Everytime I hear this verse I think of those scattering and scampering up to that truck. Buzzing with excitement. We waited on him. We recognized his voice. We wanted what he was selling.
Are you thirsty? Are you broke and hungry? I want to invite you to come and drink of the water that will satisfy. Come, buy and eat...that your soul may live. Jesus is certainly more precious and valuable than any ice cream man, but this summer when you hear the music and your kids start clammoring for his wares...indulge them and then while their smiles are fresh and they are dripping with memories...share this with them. The One who calls us out of our poverty and into His splendor...satisfying us to the end of the age with His unfailing love.
COME AND GET IT!!!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
A New Language
When people find out that our son is taking a Latin class, they inevitably ask, "Why Latin?" It is a very common question, and doesn't bother us, but we always answer the same, "Because Latin is the foundation for practically every other language." Anson even asked one time why he was taking a Latin class. He came to the conclusion that he could be a missionary to "Latin America!" Now that is just plain funny!
Where I am not taking a Latin class, I am learning a foreign language. It's a language of Empires and Storm Troopers. It's a language of long ago in a galaxy far, far away. Guess what it is? Star Wars!!! Lego has been kind enough to develop building sets and websites for movies that make boys crazy! For a few years he's been building Y-wing fighters and collecting Anakin minifigures. It was probably a few months ago he was showing me a "Boba Fatt" guy and some weird talking alien and I thought, "I can't understand a word coming out of his mouth. I've got to get this language." So, I told Mike I needed to be trained. I would be his "Padawan." If you will.
We started small. Mike decided that Anson would watch the movies in chronological order, not the order that the movies were made. For those of you who don't know, the old movies (the ones that came out when we were kids) are actually the last 3 installments. The new movies (that came out at the end of the 90's and early 2000's) are of the beginning...you see who Darth Vader is and why he chose the Dark Side of The Force. So, that's where we started. Mike was going to watch these first, and then decide when and if Anson could watch them. That was fine with me. Until I couldn't talk to my boy. So, we watched the first one about a month ago. I enjoyed it, but wasn't crazy about it. Then a night or two later, we watched the second one and I took notes! A few of my notes, "Anakin has a lot of potential, but it's not harnessed. He is unwise. Why is Queen Amidala now a senator? Is Dooku a bad guy? Anger and fear lead to the Dark Side." Anson was quite impressed. I enjoyed the second one. So, then we were up for the third one. Anson will not be watching this one, and I will say of the 4 I've seen so far, this is the hardest to watch. It broke my heart. So much evil was present and almost all of it was for personal gain. So, last night we finished the 4th (we started it a few nights ago and I fell asleep). I enjoyed it and look forward to watching the 5th soon. So, why?
We request that our children listen to us. We request (demand) that they do what we say and do it sooner than later. When they are younger it's all about training and then when they get older, something happens. They develop interests that we may or may not care about. We enjoy the time alone while they are lost in their world for hours at a time and count ourselves lucky. Then, they grow up a bit more and they don't want to talk to us about those things that really matter. How did that happen? We were doing so well. There was peace and everyone was happy. Right? I think we lose our kids when we check out on those things that interest them. We have to earn the right to speak into their lives. They don't just hand that over. I'm watching Star Wars and talking about light sabers and siths because I want to talk about dating and marriage. I'm re-watching pod-races because I want to talk about finances. I'm going somewhere with this. It's not because I want to know why Lego has priced the Death Star at $139.00 (although that does interest me) it's that when there are matters of life and death, I want to be able to reach my son. The only way he's going to care about what I have to say later, is if I care about what he has to say now.
It's no small task raising children. We must be vigilant and engaged. We must do what it takes, no matter what that might be in order to stay involved in the lives of our children. The Dark Side beckons...may the Force be with us.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Not so Pinterested.
You're in!
I'm excited to invite you to join Pinterest, a social catalog. I can't wait to have you join our little community.
To create your Pinterest account, click the link below and push the blue "FB Connect" button. You can also join with Twitter.
http://pinterest.com/invited/?email=aliwessner@yahoo.com&invite=1c983258
Pinterest Etiquette: Try to...
Be Nice!
Be Creative. The best pinboards mix products, art, recipes and images from all across the web. Try not to pin everything from a single source.
Give Credit. If you blog about an item you found on Pinterest, it's nice to credit your fellow pinners by linking back to the original pin.
If you have any questions, we'd love to hear from you. Email us at hi@pinterest.com or follow us on twitter @pinterest. We also have an iPhone app.
Happy pinning!
- Ben & the Pinterest Team
How exciting is that!!! I'm in! They like me. They'll have me...there is just ONE itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny problem...no Facebook for me. You have to have a Facebook account to join, and I'm not going to join Facebook in order to join Pinterest. Are they BFF's? I suppose that since so many people are "connected" that it's their business and what not...so it's not all sad. I can still check out pins, just can't create a pinboard. Oh well. I'll just look things up, or maybe I'll just not jump into that black hole of time, because even without an account I can really get sucked in. Mike can too! So, that's how all that went down, for those of you who were waiting, hoping, and praying that I'd get in...I did...1 point for the average, run of the mill Mama...but 1 point for the super big social networking world that is taking over the for real world. Well, at least I got invited.
I'm excited to invite you to join Pinterest, a social catalog. I can't wait to have you join our little community.
To create your Pinterest account, click the link below and push the blue "FB Connect" button. You can also join with Twitter.
http://pinterest.com/invited/?email=aliwessner@yahoo.com&invite=1c983258
Pinterest Etiquette: Try to...
Be Nice!
Be Creative. The best pinboards mix products, art, recipes and images from all across the web. Try not to pin everything from a single source.
Give Credit. If you blog about an item you found on Pinterest, it's nice to credit your fellow pinners by linking back to the original pin.
If you have any questions, we'd love to hear from you. Email us at hi@pinterest.com or follow us on twitter @pinterest. We also have an iPhone app.
Happy pinning!
- Ben & the Pinterest Team
How exciting is that!!! I'm in! They like me. They'll have me...there is just ONE itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny problem...no Facebook for me. You have to have a Facebook account to join, and I'm not going to join Facebook in order to join Pinterest. Are they BFF's? I suppose that since so many people are "connected" that it's their business and what not...so it's not all sad. I can still check out pins, just can't create a pinboard. Oh well. I'll just look things up, or maybe I'll just not jump into that black hole of time, because even without an account I can really get sucked in. Mike can too! So, that's how all that went down, for those of you who were waiting, hoping, and praying that I'd get in...I did...1 point for the average, run of the mill Mama...but 1 point for the super big social networking world that is taking over the for real world. Well, at least I got invited.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
You've got to be kidding me!!!
So,I finally decide that I'll join a social site...maybe it's social...and I've been put on a flippin' waiting list. Waiting for an invitation. I'm sorry is it 6th grade again and the cool kids are gathering at the cool kid house and I'm waiting, hoping, holding my breath that I'll get invited. Good grief. All I wanted to do was "pin" two things. I wanted to pin the AMAZING curl your hair with a headband and...no I guess that was it. Just create my own personal pin board, for fun, before I worked on our budget. Instead I get this super nice e-mail, here you read it...
Hi!
Thanks for joining the Pinterest waiting list. We'll be sure to send you an invite soon.
In the meantime, you can follow us on Twitter. You can also explore a few pins.
We're excited to get you pinning soon!
- Ben and the Pinterest Team
Yeah, Ben, and the Pinterest Team...what am I waiting for? Are you checking my cool points...looking me up on Facebook? You won't find me there...this is the first site I've decided to join, but now I don't know. Maybe I won't...maybe I'll boycot you like I boycot Facebook, i-phones and cable! Maybe that'll show you how us normal average folks feel about a waiting list. Maybe you can pin this!
Off to do my budget...no waiting list there. No, standing room only...just me and my trusty pen and paper telling my money where to go. For real style. Nothing virtual about that. Just full on, real live work. Thanks for the diversion, Pinterest, thanks.
Hi!
Thanks for joining the Pinterest waiting list. We'll be sure to send you an invite soon.
In the meantime, you can follow us on Twitter. You can also explore a few pins.
We're excited to get you pinning soon!
- Ben and the Pinterest Team
Yeah, Ben, and the Pinterest Team...what am I waiting for? Are you checking my cool points...looking me up on Facebook? You won't find me there...this is the first site I've decided to join, but now I don't know. Maybe I won't...maybe I'll boycot you like I boycot Facebook, i-phones and cable! Maybe that'll show you how us normal average folks feel about a waiting list. Maybe you can pin this!
Off to do my budget...no waiting list there. No, standing room only...just me and my trusty pen and paper telling my money where to go. For real style. Nothing virtual about that. Just full on, real live work. Thanks for the diversion, Pinterest, thanks.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Just a thought
Today on the way home from church I had the girls and Mike had the boy. We don't typically take two cars, but I had to get some hair done and Mike needed to teach, so we followed behind. Anyway...on the way home we pulled up next to a car that was clearly LOVIN' the music. She was dancin' and singin' and so I sort of whispered to myself (I don't have a quiet whisper), "Let's see what she's listenen' to." I rolled the window down (what should we call that now that we don't actually "roll" the window down? Shall we call it, what, buttoning it down?) Julia heard me and she giggled and we listened. We couldn't quite get the words but we loved the beat. We even decided that we'd use it to memorize our next Catechism question (Westminster Shorter question number 20) but now we can't remember it. It was, however, super in the moment.
So, here's my thought. Do people want to hear my music? Not my for real music, although Andrew Peterson and JJ Heller are easy on the ears and let's NOT forget about John Denver. I mean the music of my life. Do people see me dancing and singing and wonder what I'm listening to? Do they wonder what makes me move and live and have my being? Do they want what I want? Do they button their window down to hear my music? I don't know. I hope so. I'll be aware of it. And...I'll play it louder so they hear the words, "There is but ONE name under heaven, whereby we must be saved." Now if that isn't freedom rock I don't know what is! Turn it up, friends!
So, here's my thought. Do people want to hear my music? Not my for real music, although Andrew Peterson and JJ Heller are easy on the ears and let's NOT forget about John Denver. I mean the music of my life. Do people see me dancing and singing and wonder what I'm listening to? Do they wonder what makes me move and live and have my being? Do they want what I want? Do they button their window down to hear my music? I don't know. I hope so. I'll be aware of it. And...I'll play it louder so they hear the words, "There is but ONE name under heaven, whereby we must be saved." Now if that isn't freedom rock I don't know what is! Turn it up, friends!
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