Recently, I was surfing through the TV channels and came across an anniversary special for the hit TV show, Happy Days. The show ran from 1974-1984, and encompassed the biggest part of my childhood and, as I watched, I began to have some very nostalgic and “fond(z)” memories (sorry, I had to do it) of that part of my life. I know that I’m going to sound old when I say this, but when I was a kid, life was just simpler. I guess that’s true for most kids. I didn’t have to worry about much of anything other than who was going to be the Cowboy and who would be the Indian. Or, how I could get the peas from the plate to the dog bowl without mom or dad noticing? Or, better yet, how could I go to plan B and move the peas from my plate to my brother’s plate, without him suspecting anything? I succeeded a few times! He would always get so mad at me because I would be the first to go back outside and play while he had to stay and finish “his” peas. He knew the truth, and so did I, but the truth didn’t set him free. Those were Happy Days!

In my neighborhood, we were all friends. There were no privacy fences and you could sleep with your doors unlocked. We didn’t need a sign that said we had a neighborhood watch. Summer evenings were filled with us kids playing in the streets while the parents would walk to the adjoining yard or across the street to visit one another. Occasionally, they would pull up some lawn chairs and watch us sandlot boys play whiffle ball in the field across the street from my house. I can remember one summer being what we would now call the “McGuire/Sosa” summer. Darren and I belted so many home runs (over the third telephone wire, across the street and past the tree in my yard) that we lost count. All we knew was that Hank Aaron didn’t hold the title any longer. Those were Happy Days.

They say that “all good things come to an end” and they certainly did on Allen Drive. My friend, Wayne, and his family moved away. I vividly remember the day that Darren’s dad pulled the family station wagon out of the driveway. I stood in the street and watched Darren wave goodbye as their car drove out of sight. When evening came, I went back and stood under the now lit street light, stared at Darren’s dark house, and missed my friend. Who would toss the football with me under this light? Who would help me steal the Christmas lights from the front lawns that year? Over the years, the next door neighbor’s, on both sides of us, moved away and an ugly home invaded OUR sandlot. Things changed, people packed up, and life moved on. Those were sad days.

Unfortunately, many people live in the memory of the past, good or bad. They are trapped by an endless amount of memory that keeps them frozen in time. Our evenings are filled with commercials that do their best used car salesman impersonations to get us to buy this magical pill that will take our depression away. They guarantee, Happy Days (albeit with a dose of vomiting, diarrhea, headaches, dizziness, hallucinations, blurred vision, etc. . .) Yet, everyone one of us is looking to get back to the basics of life. And it’s funny that no matter how much things change, they still stay the same. We all long for laughter in the home, quiet evenings with our families, a solid church, family-friendly TV shows, whiffle ball in the sandlots, and the ability to reach over the fence and shake our neighbor’s hand.

The Bible says in Ecclesiastes 7:10, “Don’t long for the ‘good ole days’, for you don’t know whether they were any better than today.” So true! In the past three years, I have weathered some storms. I’ve been laid off twice, collected unemployment, worked as a substitute teacher, moved twice, and have encountered an enormous amount of closed doors, all while attempting to be the best Christian, husband, and father than I can be for my family. These are hard days.

But, do you want to know something? I wouldn’t trade this journey for anything in the world (okay, maybe some backstage passes to a Bon Jovi concert). In these same three years, God has provided every step of the way. He has provided food, shelter, clothing, and a loving family. He has provided encouraging friends, a school for Sarah to teach, and for Ethan to attend, a job for me, a newer car, and He even prompted someone to give us some money one Christmas when we didn’t have any. Yes, the circumstances have not changed. My job, is dull and boring, and doors continue to close and I’m anxious to move my family into our “sweet spot”. But, I was reminded of something the other day when I took our young adult group on a hike to Harper’s Ferry. Even though there were moments during the hike where it got a little tough, I still stopped to enjoy the journey, and I didn’t quit.

As I stood on top of the mountain, I could see where I began my journey and the view was worth it. I miss my childhood and my friends from the sandlot but I can’t live in that place, I had to move on and here I am, at the young age of 39, looking back on those “fond(z)”  memories (I had to do it again) and enjoy the ones that I’m making. And, should I also say, looking forward to the ones yet to have come. My prayer is the same for each of you!

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days. Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days. Thursday, Friday, Happy Days. Saturday, what a day! Yes, these truly are, Happy Days!