As my cousin Marlon once said, "I was driving down the gospel highway" yesterday on my way to an appointment that was 30 minutes away from my home.  To make the trek more pleasurable, I resorted to my disk-jockeying skills (I've never been one except in my own car) and held a private concert featuring inspirational music. (Something about inspirational music turns on the tear-ducts and before I know it, I 'm having church on four wheels.)

I slid one music compilation after another into the CD player, including Whitney Houston's Christmas CD featuring The Little Drummer Boy which is always on the play list despite the season of the year. The song is beautifully performed as a duet by the singer and her precious daughter Bobbi Kristina. Loving some Whitney, I turned up the music and belted out the song at the top of my lungs along with them (forgive me Whitney!) when the words literally began speaking to me. I stopped in mid-song as they sang, "I have no gift to bring...That's fit to give a King...Shall I play for you?" And it suddenly occurred to me that my recent detour on my journey as a working mother has been God's way of bringing this message home. As the drums kept the beat and the woodwinds and other musical instruments filled my car with this joyful noise, it became clearer to me that one of the most important things I could do in this world is to acknowledge and share my God-given gifts. As the song began its crescendo and the praise and dance began, Whitney's distinctive voice coupled with her young daughter's vocals brought it home sweetly: "Mary nodded...the ox and lamb kept time...I played my drum for him...I played my best for him...Then He smiled at me...me and my drum."

Suddenly it came to me! Every one of us has been given gifts or talents, and it is incumbent upon us to share them on this life's journey. By doing so, we can make Him-- and others-- smile. This is the legacy we should give our children, whether they are biological offspring, adopted, nieces, nephews, or grands. Whitney demonstrated this truism by including her daughter on this musical project.

Perhaps my recent change in employment status isn't a detour after all, but a change in the speed limit. My husband's grandmother, Thelma Earl, would admonish him to drive the speed limit if it changed while she was a passenger in the car. "Twenty-five through here honey, twenty-five!" she would say. He still remembers the tone and inflection she would use. I only hope that I can be as vigilant and effective as she was. 

What I know for sure is that hearing a message is not enough; slowing down long enough to actually receive it and put it into favorable practice is what's most important.