You know how it is: you need to find a place to live. There are so many factors to consider–school for the kids; proximity to work and necessary transportation; affordability; security…the list goes on. In 1954/55 my parents made the fateful decision to buy a little house, nestled in a neighborhood of what was once an orange grove, in the sleepy town of Fullerton, California. I was born just 5 years later into my forever, “hometown”.

My mother’s father was a painter and was working on a tract of homes in west Fullerton, just a hop from Anaheim where Disneyland was being constructed. Granddad told my parents of these affordable homes he was working on. My dad, fresh from his stint in the Korean War (also a WWII vet), had the GI Bill benefit waiting to be used in the purchase of a home. $13,000 was the price tag. The salesperson was impressed with my dad’s salary as a draftsman with the Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts. Dad would have to make a commute to work everyday. But many new home buyers were willing to make the drive into LA from Orange County and the San Fernando Valley just to have an affordable home of their own.

Why my folks picked Fullerton was probably an arbitrary decision. Little did they consider it’s past or the famous people who hailed from there. It has an historic connection to the railroad, Father Junipero Serra’s historic Mission Trail, and the citrus industry. But other than a few distinctions, Fullerton is very much like the other small towns built in the wake of the 1880s California land boom. For whatever reason they chose it, it must have been a perfect fit for the future they would build together.

Many famous people did hail from Fullerton like singers Jackson Browne and John Raitt (Bonnie’s dad). Fender guitars were born in Fullerton. In fact, a revolution in guitar and amp manufacturing (Buddy Holly, Eric Clapton, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix) happened just off of Harbor Blvd. Richard Nixon went to school in Fullerton. The world-record setting construction of a 2 bedroom tract home was completed in 57 hours and 57 minutes in 1970…Fullerton.

Every time I travel to the west coast I take a special jaunt to my old place on Southgate Ave. It doesn’t look at all the same. The big tree out front is gone, along with the ivy that covered the area between the sidewalk and the curb. I’m sure when my parents sold it in the early 80s, and the new owners tore that out, they found a lot of missing treasure.

For many, Fullerton is just another green sign along the 91 or 5 Freeway, on the way to San Diego or LA. But for me, it is where I come from. I took my first steps there; I learned to speak there; I went to school there. My heart has a tender spot for my old home town. Even though I had to leave there in 1980 to play music, I am proud to say I hail from Fullerton, CA.

Most of my communication these days involving the outside world is usually generated on a computer. I credit Facebook and Twitter for reconnecting me to the outer-reaches of my concentric circle of friends and acquaintances. Emails are still in vogue, though an old-school method of communication (progress is now measured on a nano-second growth continuum). I do subscribe to a few email lists and have Twitter/Facebook friend updates that I look forward to reading when a post comes down the wireless. I received a Tweet last week that I want to mention here regarding my purpose on earth.

The quote that hit me right between the eyes was from Rick Warren, pastor of Saddleback Church in Orange County, California. It read, “Do what God CALLS you to do with your life and you’ll succeed. Do what you think will prove your worth & you’ll fail miserably.” How many hours, days, weeks and years have I spent trying to prove my worth? Embarrassingly way too many. I have tried to run out ahead of God when I should have just stayed back and waited for his promotion. I thank God for redemption because it doesn’t only include a life of sin, bought back, to then be used for God’s purposes. It also includes believers like me who have made bad choices and need to be reunited with God’s purposes for their lives. I have learned that I can’t trust my own radar when it comes to sticking to the road that God has me on. I have based my worth on happiness, or the lack of it in an endeavor. Sometimes I feel bored and want to jump on another road so I can get that exhilarating feeling of a new challenge.

I believe that I am on the right track these days but I have a question of doubt sometimes when I don’t see God working fast enough on my behalf (ask Brenda, my impatience is awful!). My best guide to knowing I’m living in the purpose God created for me is to see the work of my hands bring fruition in His Kingdom through the skills He gave me. I also sense a Godly wind at my back, pushing me on.

My friend, John Stanko, wrote a book about finding purpose called Life Is A Gold Mine: Can You Dig It? In it he includes several “nuggets” to determine if you are on the correct path. Some of the ones that hit me are in the form of Scripture:

Nugget Six: Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will serve before kings; he will not serve before obscure men (Proverbs 22:29). God does not promote potential, but skill and excellence.

Nugget Ten: He who gathers crops in summer is a wise son, but he who sleeps during harvest is a disgraceful son (Proverbs 10:5). You must know where to invest your time.

Nugget Twelve: By wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place (Proverbs 3:19). God will help you get things done.

Nugget Seventeen: A faithful man will be richly blessed, but one eager to get rich will not go unpunished (Proverbs 28:20). There are no shortcuts to success.

I pray your purpose is fulfilled this week.

I’ve always had a veracious appetite. My mother said that as a baby I would eat until absolutely full, throw up, and then eat again. I wasn’t a purger, I just had a serious Roman-like dietary ethic: eat till you drop! I have paid the price throughout my life with the fact that I love food for the taste. I wish my motto had been, “Eat to live, not live to eat.” Food just has way too much fun and comfort attached for it to be simply a mechanical exercise of survival.

I usually wake up able and ready to eat breakfast. Some people, like my wife, can’t even think about eating till after mid-morning. My favorite choice has always been Cream of Wheat. I can make it sweet, buttery and creamy–so I get a meal and dessert in one fell swoop. It’s warm when it goes down and sticks to the ribs (the only way I was able to find them until a few months ago!).

My mother made Cream of Wheat or oatmeal often for her three boys back in the 60s. We would all line up across the open oven door, dipping out of our bowls, while we warmed our PJ-clad rears (I don’t think it got down below 40 degrees in Fullerton, CA very often but it seemed like 30 below zero some mornings). Missing breakfast was a missed opportunity for joy, warmth and togetherness.

I guess food still strikes me in that same way today. I got out of the healthy-habit of eating breakfast for a few decades but now make it a part of my middle-age fitness routine. I never leave the house without Cream of Wheat or oatmeal in my gut. Summer, fall, winter or spring, hot cereal always trumps the cold stuff for me. I replace the sugar with Splenda and the butter with a substitute containing less fat and I’m good to go. There’s nothing like starting the day with a warm bowl of Cream of Wheat and good memories of days gone by–filling my stomach, heart and soul.

I have always heard, “Trust your instincts.” Malcolm Gladwell, in his book Blink, tells the story of a firefighter in Cleveland who answered a routine call with his men. It was in a kitchen in the back of a one-story house in a residential neighborhood. The lieutenant looked around and thought, “There’s something wrong here,” and he immediately ordered his men out. Moments after they fled, the floor they had been standing on collapsed. The fire had been in the basement, not the kitchen as it appeared. Gladwell was intrigued by the gut-instinct with which the firefighters reacted to the immediate evidence. In fact, if the lieutenant had dilly-dallied on the facts, he and his men would have perished.

When it comes to people, I have had this same strange feeling encountering certain individuals–the kind of warning that shoots through your brain and screams, “Something’s wrong here!” The Bible clearly speaks of fruit when it talks about evidence of Christ’s presence in people. The Apostle Paul writes in Galatians 5:22-23, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”(NIV)

In 2 Timothy 3, Paul warns his young protege about impostors of the faith: “6They are the kind who worm their way into homes and gain control over weak-willed women, who are loaded down with sins and are swayed by all kinds of evil desires, 7always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth. … 9But they will not get very far because, as in the case of those men, their folly will be clear to everyone.”(NIV)

It is hard to explain, but God gives us a degree of discernment through His Spirit. His desire is to make folly clear to everyone who desires Truth. This discernment is based on His Word and in this particular scripture, the basic list of spiritual fruit listed above. God also helps us discern in deeper ways when He puts a check in our hearts as to a person’s motives or intentions. In this life, we must be as Jesus said in Matthew 10:16, “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.”(NIV) We must always act in love but never let our guard down.

Today I received some startling news that a former band-mate of 30 years ago was arrested for fraud in an ever-expanding FBI investigation. Brenda and I knew there was something not quite on the up-and-up when we visited he and his wife in Orlando 12 years ago. Now we know. Beware the Greek who offers a large, wooden horse as a gift!

Most of my favorite musical artists are at least 10 years older than me. When I became aware of music at the age of 10, my favorites were 20 or 21 years old. Some of my contemporaries like U2 and Crowded House are right up there in the pantheon of my faves, too. The Beatles and the Stones don’t count because they made a subliminal impression on me way back in the mid-60s when I was in kindergarten. My true musical a-ha moments began around the time the Beatles were breaking up in 1970. That was about the same time I discovered the guitar.

It is common that our musical heroes are young. The fortunate artists hit big with their first record because they have been writing and playing it all their lives up until then. But with most artists, when the second record is in the queue, they have a year instead of a lifetime to prepare. This is where the screeching-halt of a career can be heard. If you have seen the movie about a one-hit-wonder band from the 60s, That Thing You Do, you know just what I’m talking about.

I have been waiting months looking for the new Crowded House record, Intriguer, to release. It came out Tuesday and, again, they have proven that 50-year-olds can still write, sing, play and rock! Just a month or so ago Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers came out with a stunning set of blues-oriented songs on their new Mojo CD. They give the young guns a run for their money. I say youth is way overrated.

By the time musicians, songwriters and performers arrive at middle-age, we are just getting started. Our chops are better (if we stay active on our instrument), our musical tool box is burgeoning, the songs we write come from a more mature place, and our skill and ability to entertain a crowd only ripens with age.

I love a greatest hits record just like anybody else…especially ones that are remastered versions of the old songs. But I’ll still be looking forward to my favorite artist’s release of new material. As for me, I will be playing, singing and writing for as long as I am alive.