Tag: Hope

I am a musician — in the same sense that a tomato is a salad. To be clear, I can find “Middle C” on a piano keyboard and know a trombone from a tambourine Yet and still , not quite qualifying me as a “genuine” musician. Full disclosure, I did play Sousaphone in high school band, trombone in college concert/marching band—and, at age 77 with guitar, joined a Bluegrass band (“The Altar Egos”).

Having said this, perhaps my experiences will inspire some yearning souls to go ahead and toot a horn, pluck a string, or even drum a drum. I sincerely believe that music, in one form or the other, resides in the soul of every human being. I’ve even looked up the phrase, “music of the spheres.” This celestial-sounding phrase refers to a philosophical concept that suggests a harmonious relationship between the movements of celestial bodies and music.

See? Even the celestial bodies create music. Now to be sure, not everyone likes the same kind of music — nor, IMHO is everything that is called “music,” well, music. But then, I’ve already disclosed to you my musical credentials.

Tastes in music vary. I love to hear the heavenly reverberations of a fine pipe organ, the downbeat of Dixieland Jazz on Pinky’s Alley, and Dave Bruebeck’s meandering sounds of quiet jazz, to mention a few. My sister loved Elvis Presley and had every recording she could get her hands on. My mother and dad both played musical instruments. My college band director loved electronic music. As early as high school, my wife Jane, was singing solos and was in trios. Music is barely in my wheelhouse — but there, nonetheless!

When King Saul was in deep depression, he said to his servants, “Find me a good musician and bring him to me.” (1 Samuel 16:17 CEB) Young David came, played on his lyre, and Saul got better. It matters not the means, method, or motivation, you too, can be a musician. Music–again IMHO–makes life sweet, significant, and worth living–and, heals the soul.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2026

FRIDAY, July 10, 2020                  

Theologian Martin Buber said,   “All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware;” Yes readers, you and I are unaware of secret destinations this Journey, Fridays With Willis will provide. As Buber said, it is true of all journeys. So hang in there; I’ll meet you here each Friday.

I recall a journey packed with secret destinations; when Paige retired, after thirty one years of teaching elementary school, she had a wish: With school starting in the fall, she wanted to be on a trip—any trip, just to be out of town when school busses start to roll. So, we planned a trip up the Eastern Shore of the United States; details we virtually abandoned pretty soon after starting; we decided instead, as friend once said, to “follow the radiator.”

Our journey found a number of “secret destinations”; discovery of a delightful mom-and-pop seafood restaurant soon after departing Chesapeake Bay Bridge–Tunnel; stopped to visit some former neighbors in Norfolk, VA, — who invited us to tour the area and stay for lunch in their home; found a neat Farmer’s Market in Philadelphia for breakfast where we tried Scrapple (hmmm, and Yankees laugh at our Georgia Grits!!??); met and hired a delightful independent tour guide in Amish country; received an invitation to worship in a United Methodist church in the Shenandoah Valley , ate dinner in a Railroad Dining car-turned-full-service hotel in Chattanooga, TN.  (Yep, we had turned South-Westward).

The final secret destination of the journey was the result of a phone call; it was Jennifer, our daughter in Atlanta, as we were leaving Chattanooga. She needed help with her infant son, Zach. She was finishing her days of teaching school before taking maternity leave for Katie to be born. I left Paige in Atlanta to help Jennifer with Zach , and returned to my office on St. Simons Island, GA. There were no significant unpleasant developments during our journey (well, maybe the Scrapple); yet the secret destinations of this journey provide many happy memories.

Bob Hope’s “Thanks for the Memory” is a little glimpse of cherished memories of journeys gone by;

“Thanks for the memory, Of sentimental verse, nothing in my purse, And chuckles when the preacher said, “For better or for worse”. How lovely it was. Thanks for the memory, …how lovely it was!”

Journeys tend to be what we make them. Sometimes it is only later that we can laugh—sometimes much later.  I have a friend who was commissioned to make a wedding cake. Her result was a work of brilliance. She and her husband carefully packed the beautiful cake into their car. However, on the way to the wedding, he hit the brakes really hard to avoid a traffic mishap; the cake smashed against the trunk wall. It was a mess! Upon arriving at the church they quickly took the cake to the kitchen where she skillfully repaired it.  She and he now laugh a lot about that journey—and yes, they are still married.  

A journey’s secret destinations can portend good memories. Sometimes even the “disasters,”— may provide good memories—eventually.

Today’s Blog ends with a belated “Thank you” for joining this Journey. And thanks also to you new subscribers for joining us. These days, it is important that we to hang together, practicing Physical Separation, wearing masks, and offering help, hope, and humor as we journey together. I hope posts on my Blog each Friday provide some of it all.