I was born and raised in East Peoria, Illinois.  That meant several things: my dad worked at Caterpillar Tractors, I shopped at Bergner's department store, and I routinely enjoyed three feet of snow every winter.  When we lived in San Diego, people spoke of "visiting the snow."  When you lived in Illinois, the snow visited you ... and stayed for a while. While living in California for fifteen of the last eighteen years, we didn't see much snow.  We did see snow on the news.  If I remember correctly, I think people sent us pictures of the snow.  Theologically speaking, we enjoyed the snow vicariously and was content to do so. For some reason, God thought we had experienced enough blue skies and warm temperatures and decided it was time to move us back to where it snows.  Which it did this week in a big way.  And he used…

I recently read the phrase "every life has a soundtrack" and it has stuck with me. My musical tastes were formed in part by being the youngest of five brothers.  While my friends in high school were listening to Human League and Wham!, I was listening to Neil Young, James Taylor, and Dan Fogelburg.  By the grace of God, I was spared from the techno-pop era. As I've aged, my musical interests have expanded to include such genres as bluegrass and alternative country.  I've added Lyle Lovett, John Prine, and others to my collection.  Of course, nothing can beat the Barenaked Ladies when you need feel-good music. "Every life has a soundtrack."   Indeed.   There is a melody behind each of us.  With nearly forty years of living under my belt, I've learned that the music changes ... as we change.  But it's still there. Each person we meet, even those…