tad:  a small amount of something.  That’s the dictionary’s definition of the word ‘tad’.  But this is not the ‘tad’ I am writing about.

Several years ago, I taught music at one of the large inner-city high schools in Providence, RI.  Two doors down from my room, was the art room.  I was friends with the art teacher, and every once in awhile on my planning period, I would stick my head in his door to see what medium the students were working on.  On this one particular day, he was teaching pottery – and asked if I wanted to join the class.  I would have loved to have taken the class for the whole term, but was happy to be involved at least that day.  My take-away from that class, for one thing, was how I could make whatever I wanted out of that lump of clay, and even remold and reshape it.   It reminded me of the Master Potter – Whom I tend to want to become at times – forgetting that I am just the lump of clay and that whatever He wants to make of me, and however He wants to shape me is always going to be for my best.  His only interest is of me.

It seems as if every year during the month of February, our minds think – ‘love’!  Pretty natural with it’s containing the most romantic holiday of the year – Valentine’s Day.  But there are several different types of love.  I want to just briefly share four of them with you, and then give you an example of one that I experienced at one time.

“The LORD gives strength to his people; the LORD blesses His people with peace.”  – Psalm 29.11

God’s plan for us – is peace.  At times, reality – is depression. Or fear. Confusion. Hopelessness. Guilt.  Non-clarity of thought.  Prolonged or severe emotional stress.  Uselessness or no purpose in life.  Physical illness, bringing on much of what has just been mentioned.  Add your own ‘opposite of peace’.  From time to time, I struggle with depression which can bring a plethora of those symptoms or feelings with it. I know that for every problem, there is a root problem.  Therein lies my problem.  I can never seem to figure out what the root is.

Several years ago when my three boys were young, we were invited to attend a presentation of a Christmas Cantata at my aunt and uncle’s church.  I was also asked to play Christmas music on the piano before and after the service, and for the offertory.  The church was about an hour and a half drive from where we lived in Massachusetts.  All the way there, whiter-than-white snow just glistened under the moon’s light, the street lights, and lights from businesses in more highly populated areas.  We experienced the ‘beauty of God’s earth’ in just getting to our destination.