Sunday Reflections

Yesterday, my friend Laurie ,from work, and I went on a mid morning hike in the Superstitions.

The weather was perfect and it was so beautiful. It's the time of year when the desert is in bloom! Now...let me preface this by saying that it has taken me a few years to be able to say that the desert is pretty. I still concur that the mountains in Utah or the rolling hills of California are far more gorgeous than any blooming desert but I do appreciate it more now than I did when I first moved out here. Anyway, it was a perfect day for a hike. There was a nice breeze and a cloud cover so it didn't get too hot. There were tons of 'Blue Lupens' and 'California Poppies'! Is that weird or what?! California Poppies in Arizona! I was simply a beautiful day. (Oops, there's my shadow)

Laurie made the comment, "How can you NOT talk about God out here." It has caused me to reflect the the last couple of days on God's power and all that He has done and can do. We know that He created this beautiful earth for us to enjoy, which in and of itself is amazing, but even more amazing is that he created us in His own image. We are literally His children and He knows us each individually and personally. Knowing this brings me peace, and knowing that no matter how hard things can get, He is always there to help us reach the amazing potential that He knows we have.

(Made it to the top!)

This is the story of a young piano student. His mother, wishing to encourage him, "bought tickets for a performance of the great Polish pianist, Paderewski. The night of the concert arrived and the mother and son found their seats near the front of the concert hall. While the mother visited with friends, the boy slipped quietly away.
"Suddenly, it was time for the performance to begin and a single spotlight cut through the darkness of the concert hall to illuminate the grand piano on stage. Only then did the audience notice the little boy on the bench, innocently picking out 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.'
"His mother gasped, but before she could move, Paderewski appeared on stage and quickly moved to the keyboard. He whispered to the boy, 'Don't quit. Keep playing.' And then, leaning over, the master reached down with his left hand and began filling in the bass part. Soon his right arm reached around the other side, encircling the child, to add a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice held the crowd mesmerized.
"In our lives, unpolished though we may be, it is the Master who surrounds us and whispers in our ear, time and time again, 'Don't quit. Keep playing.' And as we do, He augments and supplements until a work of amazing beauty is created. He is right there with all of us, telling us over and over, 'Keep playing.'"7