Time travel is possible

We are absolutely loving our new (old) stereo phonograph. As long as we avoid mirrors, it's a lot like time travel, to hear the songs of our youth coming through the speakers. Singing along, I am reminded at how deeply music becomes ingrained in our minds. Although I would be hard-pressed to recall the lyrics on the spot, once the music starts, the lyrics come flooding back and we scarcely miss a syllable. (It was when I worked on the Alzheimer's ward at a long-term care center that I first discovered music's power to lie dormant until just the right chords resound. These dear people, no longer sure of who they are, or who anyone else is, can suddenly sing lyrics they haven't heard in decades, hitting each note, their smiles made shiny by a cascade of tears.)

We brought the next generation into our time machine Monday. Ben, Shelly, Haili, Nate and Maddy got the Martin Luther King holiday off, so they all piled into Ben's new-to-him extended cab pickup to surprise Danny and me Sunday night. I made quick work of my duties at the paper Monday morning, and returned home to the music blaring, Ben, Danny and Shelly in the living room listening and the grands all at the kitchen table playing Monopoly. Soon enough, the game broke up and we were dancing in the kitchen. They didn't know this ol' gal could still cut a rug!

This ol' gal, envisioning my afternoon while I hurried through the day's duties at the Gazette, pictured me and the girls mixing up a batch of gingersnaps. We found a recipe in a garage sale cookbook, and in his own inimitable style, Danny has tweaked it to perfection. That sight, pretty as it was, fairly flew out the window as I dove into the middle of the most refreshing chaos I've experienced in a long, long time.

Since Danny and I will celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary this year, it shouldn't come as a shock to anyone that we grew up listening to songs protesting the Vietnam War. I'm not proud to admit that I didn't pay the war much mind back then, and that only now, 40 years hence, hindsight dialed in at 20/20, do the lyrics move me as the artists first intended. (Another revelation we're enjoying is recognizing just how talented and hard-working these artists of old were. Compared to the computer-generated music so common today, those musicians knew their instruments inside-out and upside-down.)

The chorus of "Golden Ribbons" on the Loggins and Messina "On Stage" album, spoke to us then, but the years the Lord has given us have given us ears to hear the words, again.

"We see young men, our own age, in coffins. Mothers in tears for their sons. And sweethearts and wives, alone with their memories. And golden ribbons, the fortunes of war."

As Danny and Ben listened, it came to mind that every generation has its time and its place and leaves a legacy. Thinking about that, Danny offered, "Well, Ben, my generation did do one thing that mattered. We ended the draft."

No, we didn't achieve world peace, though the thought is entrancing still.

We didn't end hunger across the face of the globe, to our shame -- we could have.

We didn't find a cure for cancer, but we sure discovered a lot of it.

Some were dragged, kicking and screaming, to stand beside a person of color in front of a mirror and see another human being -- but our differences still divide us.

That same generation, mine -- it must be claimed, brought about some of the most destructive forces of nature out of the bedroom and into the living rooms. The fallout from burned bras, birth control, no-fault divorce and the free love mantra "if it feels good do it," will be around longer than radioactive fallout if anyone ever pushes the button. (Another gruesome example of man's inhumanity to man, the legacy of the generation that preceded mine.)

Sadly, it has ever been thus. Technology has changed many things about the way we live. We live longer, we enjoy unprecedented control over our personal environment, we can communicate virtually face-to-face from opposite sides of the globe, the strides made by modern men are truly a marvel.

But men haven't changed one iota. We are not kinder. We are not gentler. Nor are we more generous or forward thinking. We all have a little Hezekiah in us. Hezekiah heard all of the woes that would come upon his kingdom, but was nevertheless pleased to learn that "there would be peace in his time." (Isaiah 39:8)

As to the song from so long ago, protesting the sacrifice of America's sons, without so much as a by-your-leave? Another 40th anniversary was celebrated by some and mourned by many, many more, just this week. There is no memorial wall in place, as most remain nameless, but they are mourned just the same.

A look at the numbers, provided here by Sondra Jonson of Cambridge, reveals the depth of the destruction:

* 22 -- the anniversary this month of Roe v. Wade.

* 25 -- the percent of pregnancies in America that end in abortion.

* 40 -- the percent of Afro American women who have abortions.

* 200 -- the number of abortions reported in Nebraska last August.

* 2,274 -- the number of abortions reported in Nebraska during 2012.

* 3,400 -- the approximate number of unborn babies killed by abortion in America each day.

* 333,964 -- the number of abortions reportedly committed by Planned Parenthood of America in 2011.

* 663,409 - the number of abortions committed by Planned Parenthood between 2010 and 2011.

* 1.4 million -- the number of unborn killed by abortion in America each year.

* 40 million -- the number of abortions done world-wide every year.

* 55 million -- the number of abortions reported in America since 1973 Roe v. Wade. Each of these 55 million was a human baby.

* $542.4 million - the money Planned Parenthood received in 2011 from the U.S. government.

* $1,244.7 BILLION -- the total financial assets of Planned Parenthood of America.

And to our everlasting shame:

* 0 -- the number of birthdays, kisses, hugs, smiles, words, steps, friendships, graduations, milestones, joys and sorrows experienced by each aborted baby.

Our generation may have ended the draft. And well and good that it did so. But when will these killings stop?

And what has happened to the church during this generation? More and more fractious factions, unity a lovely thought, but far from reality. Some dive into the world in an attempt to save it and are forfeit, others are so "other worldly" no one wants in.

Jesus once implored the church at Ephesus to "Return to your first love ... Do the things you did at first."

Live abundantly. Love with abandon. Your first love, your King, your Savior, your Lord, has taken care of everything else.

Golden Ribbons closes with the plaintive question, "What does it avail a man, to gain a fortune and lose his soul?" a question first asked by Jesus in Matthew 16:26 and Mark 8:36. The question is as valid today as it was 2,000 years ago.

"Then Jesus said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." Mark 4:9 (NIV)