We recently took a week-long spring family vacation in Nashville, Tennessee. Why Nashville? Beats me how we actually ended up with the decision to go there, but my kids like music, and my son Christopher was crazy about blues guitar and B.B. King, so we ran with it. In any case, getting my son exposed to live performances at the Music City couldn't be that bad, considering that a couple of years ago he was mostly listening to stuff like Weezer, Linkin Park and Nirvana. At his current rate of evolution in musical taste, I was hoping that he will become a Brahms and Mozart devotee in a few years.
We knew that great times lay ahead the moment we arrived at the rental car counter at Nashville International Airport. The midsize sedan that we requested was not available, and we were offered instead a brand new Ford Crown Victoria for no extra charge. Sweet. The only other time that I drove a car that big was when I chauffeured a friend for his wedding. For the next several days, we rolled in style to the Hard Rock Cafe, the Bluebird Cafe, B.B. King's Blues Club, the Grand Ole Opry, and the Country Music Hall of Fame. We also attended Sunday service at the Nashville Cowboy Church. While we all enjoyed the experience, none had a better time than my son, who listened and observed the performances critically, and grinned ear to ear during displays of excellence on stage. He also was busy with the camera, taking dozens of snapshots of vintage guitars that were in display cases throughout the city. Between excited shouts beckoning me to check out another guitar that was of immense historical interest, he would wax poetic about the instrument's background, the musician/band's place in music history, distinguishing features between the sounds of Gibson, Fender, Taylor and Martin guitars and why certain musicians prefer certain brands, the differences between a Stratocaster and a Telecaster, etc. The rest of the family saw pretty guitars in showcases. My son witnessed instead the panorama of American folk music history unfolding before his eyes. He was totally into it.
We also spent an afternoon strolling through the Nashville Zoo. The layout of the grounds was quite beautiful, and we enjoyed watching the animals. Some of the memorable sights included the meerkats, the flamingos, and a snake in the midst of devouring a mouse. The hundreds of animals on display were mostly vaguely familiar creatures that we either saw in other zoos, on television or in books. We had a fun time, but didn't really see or learn anything new. It was a nice way to spend a few hours and burn off some calories.
I am presently engaged in a different kind of strolling, intending to have my eyes walk through the entire Bible in one year. Although I have already read the Bible from cover to cover many times during my Christian journey, God continues to reveal to me precious gems from seemingly familiar verses, and these treasures continue to be uncovered even in parts of Scripture that I have read hundreds of times. Nevertheless, the joy that I experience from reading God's word pale in comparison to the writer of Psalm 119, whose praise of God's law took 176 verses, and includes such uninhibited exclamations as:
How I long for your precepts!
In your righteousness preserve my life. (Psalm 119:40)
O, how I love your law!
I meditate on it all day long. (Psalm 119:97)
How sweet are your words to my taste,
sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Psalm 119:103)
May our journey through God's word be much more than just a casual stroll through the zoo. May we be totally into it, and may our eyes light up like my son's when he gazed at B.B. King's autographed "Lucille". We have photos.
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