SPRING BLOG/2025

My Dad would have turned 92 years old today (as I write this blog, March 15, 2025). He passed away this past spring lying in a bed, looking out the living room window in his little home in Phoenix. Grief is a sneaky thing so I didn't say anything from the stage this past year as I didn't trust my tender emotions. But he was definitely on my heart at every show, on every single stage, in every city.

So . . . I figure that since it's his birthday, today seems like the perfect day to write about and celebrate my dad.

Dale Eugene Porter.

Obviously, passing at the age of 91, my dad lived a very full life. He was fully engaged and active until the very end. He had no mental aging . . . he was sharp as a tack in every conversation to his dying day. He drove his car and only used a cane in the last couple of years of his life. It wasn't until he fell and badly hurt his arm that we knew he might never be the same again. And two months later he died.

I would say my dad was most known for his great personality. He had a quick wit and fun demeanor. He was the most organized man I've ever known. And, oh was he opinionated! He had advice for you on just about every topic.

He was a patriot. He loved his country, and in the last couple of years of his life we had so much to talk about over the phone. I think one of his all-time highlights was going with me to the White House when I played there in December, 2000. He was on tour with me that year, selling merchandise in the lobby, and I got an invitation to play the Steinway located underneath the John F Kennedy portrait on Friends and Family Day for Bill Clinton and George W Bush. We were restricted as to whom we could bring with us that day for the performance, but the following day we were invited back and could bring a few guests to have breakfast in the White House Navy Mess. He got to come with me that morning, and boy was it ever special.

My dad was a simple guy . .  . never wanted much. He had a couple pairs of shoes (brown and black) and a few sport coats that he would trade out with his ties to make the outfit look brand new. When he wore out his shoes, he'd re-sole them to save money. Although thrifty, he really was quite stylish. I've never met a man who had a "favorite color" but my dad's was yellow (later I would learn it was in honor of his own father, who loved the same color). 

He was a 5'9" outstanding athlete, holding many records in track and basketball and he received a full-ride athletic scholarship to Bowling Green University. Although I did not get the athletic gene, my sisters and brother did, and growing up, one of my fondest memories was watching (and hearing) them play basketball in the driveway (most of the time I'd be at the piano). He loved to laugh, and to this very day I guess that's what I miss the most about him (the sound of laughter in our home . . . I can't get that out of my head). Sometimes he'd make us laugh so much that we'd get in trouble and be put in time out (and have to go sit on the stairs). Sure enough, once we returned to the kitchen table it would start all over again. It's kind of crazy because although there was a lot of laughter in our home, I would say my mom and dad were never really happily married. And they divorced after 25 years of marriage. 

Dale began his career in Phoenix where he met and married my beautiful mom Lorraine Mann. My mom was the first person to teach him about Jesus and he learned to love the Lord. He became a Christian, which had a profound impact on the rest of his life (and ours too). After I was born, when I was two years old they moved to Reno for his job in the insurance industry and it was there where they raised their five wonderful children of whom he was so very proud. He then spent most of his career as a paralegal at a prominent law firm. He became an elder and a song leader in the Reno-Sparks Church of Christ. He wasn't just any kind of song leader . . . he was the very best. He had a very clear voice, no vibrato, just perfect for song leading.

Growing up in an a cappella church, I spent so many moments with my dad in our living room together at the piano, plucking out notes, teaching him new songs to lead (without an instrument) on Sunday mornings. When he got the courage to lead the song, I would sit in the church pew beaming with pride (because I helped teach him the melody). 

Like his dad, he played the ukelele and the banjo. He only knew about 10 songs, but he really played them well and when we were really little, during bathtime he'd play and sing for us (and make us laugh). To this day, I would bet all of my siblings still know all the words to Five Foot Two, Eyes Of Blue, and When My Sugar Walks Down The Street. His mother (Ruth Wales) played ragtime piano, and it was my dad who taught me how to play boogie-woogie styled piano. We'd play as a duet team, and he always was better on the right-hand improvisation. I don't know how he did it, but he always came up with a new flashy line. To this day, I always throw in a little boogie-woogie on my shows (and he always pops into my head).

My sibblings all got his athletic abilities (I got the music). One of his other many talents was golf (I didn't get that gift either!). After he retired, he used his personality and athleticism to land the perfect retirement job as a guest host pro. It was during this time of his life when he met Anne. She became special to Tim and me, as together they cared for our kids for 10 years when we went out on our holiday tour. They were married for 32 years.

He worked almost until his dying day, his last job being a host for the McCormick Railroad Park in Scottsdale where he greeted people and cracked jokes. All day long he greeted visitors and once they got to the last car, he'd play soft piano music on a little CD player . . .  and talk proudly about his daughter, Lorie Line. 

My dad didn't always express his love and/or pride for me. He told other people (a lot!!!), but not really me. Maybe every once in a while on my birthday there would be pre-written words in a card that I always wanted to hear him personally say to me. Never happened. But I figure all of that is in the mix of who I am today. That is one of my secret ingredients that I have in the emotional makeup of my music. It's a slight pain, like a little headache that won't go away. 

Everyone has that pain. You just have to know how to utilize it for good.

A couple of months before he fell he texted me as he was quietly sitting in his car, listening to my music. Here's our exchange:

Dad: "Anne is running a few errands and I am sitting in the car waiting. I am enjoying your CDs play when I'm all alone. I think they touch me more now than ever before. It is so nice to be alone in the quiet of the car and listen to the music. I have six CDs in our car player and enjoy them so very much. I just wanted you to know how much I am enjoying them. It's one thing to listen to them play with all the other noise in the house, but they mean so much more in the solitude of a quiet car. They bring happiness to my heart and tears to my eyes."

Me: "Ahhhhh. I'm so glad, Dad. I'm sitting in the car too waiting for Tim. Sometimes in the quiet you can even hear my foot on the pedal or my fingers on the keys."

Dad: "I hear the TALENT the goes into the playing and the making of the CD!! Amazing."

After he fell I sent him a picture of me at an event with North Dakota's Governor Doug Burgum (now the Interior Secretary).

Me: "Dad! Governor Doug Burgum is a huge fan and asked if he could take a photo with me so he could show his wife."

Dad: "We saw the picture and you look beautiful."

And that was the last thing he ever said to me. 

His words were so lovely. And I do think he was proud of me.

Dale Eugene Porter. My earthly father whom I will see sooner than later in the "sweet by and by."

I imagine he's already waiting for me by the piano.

This is the last photo I took with my dad. We were on a garden tour and he wanted to do the whole thing, so we rented a little cart for the afternoon. 

Below this is a picture at the memorial service with my sibblings - Chip, (Lorie), Lorinda, Loreece and Lorelle at the gravesite. The photo is hazy because it was so hot that morning (over 100 degrees) in Phoenix.

Fans noticed in my concert program this year that I had the occasion to perform at Mar-a-Lago. They wanted me to share my story.

Here it is.

It was about this time last year when Tim and I loaded up our car and drove down from Minnesota to Florida. We had three special events to attend: Tim's mother's birthday (Orlando), my very good friend Wendy's 60th birthday (Naples), and lastly, playing a private anniversary party for Cris and Adam (new friends . . .  and we would celebrate with them at Mar-a-Lago).

The previous fall we met our new friends Adam and Cris at a private party in Napa at Wappo Hill Estate, Jean-Charles Boisset and Gina Gallo's home. We were there with a group of friends from Minnesota and had been invited to dinner that night. Jean-Charles asked if I might play before dinner, and it was a hit. It was a magical night and I ended up talking to an interesting couple, Adam and Cris, late into the evening. They loved my performance and asked if I would play for their one-year anniversary party . . .  which was coming up in February. Of course I said "yes." And then they told me it was going to be at Mar-a-Lago, where Adam was a member.

Who wouldn't be excited about that?!! 

I always have reservations about "big" things. Something in me always holds back a little to avoid disappointment. But as the time drew nearer, it was evident it was really going to happen. I had a special dress from the tour I was just on, and decided it would be perfect for the night. (And it would fit in the trunk of our car!)

Mar-a-Lago is a very special country club. Yes, President Trump and Melania live in a club setting, with a restaurant, pool(s), manicured grounds, 17 acres of prime beachfront property, and 58 guest rooms . . .  all named after countries. We would be staying two nights, and three days. We checked in upon arrival in the grand lobby. Two desks with beautiful and friendly women sat at them and they checked us into the Portuguese room. Two younger men helped us take our luggage to our room.

(Lobby pictured below) 

I love architecture and Mar-a-Lago is an eclectic mix of Italian, Spanish, Dutch and Portuguese styles. If you know the history, you will recall that the property was built by Marjorie Merriweather Post. Our particular room was located on the second floor, overlooking the pool and outdoor eating area. We didn't know it upon check-in, but would later realize that our room was located right next to President Trump's personal residence on the upper corner of the property (the blinds are down in President Trump's area in the picture at the top of this blog and we were to the left of his place). We were so close to the Leader of the Free World that we actually think we shared a common wall. The room had all its original design elements, and all the wood and detail remained untouched. There was a grand canopy bed (probably an original piece) adorned with brand new linens. But even the bathroom was in its original decor and only a shower head was added to the old tub.

The first thing we did was go to the Grand Ballroom to see where I'd be playing the next night and sound check the piano that was waiting for me. I've seen and played in ballrooms at clubs before, but none like this. There would be about 250 people in attendance, and the area was busy with staff setting tables and delivering floral arrangements. It was buzzing. And it was spectacular. 

I would be playing off to the side of the main dining area, and I was scheduled for a 45-minute set at 9:45 pm. My set list had 12 songs.

For dinner, Tim and I were invited to sit at the main table with Adam and Cris. Next to me was Minnesota House Majority Whip Congressman Tom Emmer and his wife Jacquie. We had met before and I instantly felt relieved that I could carry on a reasonably good (Minnesota) conversation. Phew! Across from us were all kinds of famous political people . . .  Congressman Brian Mast and his lovely wife Brianna, and next to them was  FBI Director Kash Patel. Then there was Dr. Mehmet Oz and his lovely wife Lisa.  Funny enough, I don't know or ever recognize (or care about) actors or actresses. But I know politicians. We knew them all that night, or most of them.

At 9:45 pm sharp the event planner came to the head table and ushered me to the piano. People started to trickle in to listen. It was noisy . . .  but being a former department store pianist (ha!) and playing for hundreds of private events, I settled in and got comfortable. Dr Oz and Lisa were the first to sit down in the front row. I announced songs, told brief stories, and at 10:30 pm when I was on my last song, I felt a "wave" and a rush in the crowd and everyone went "ahhhhhh" and all the energy went to the left side of the room behind me. I was in the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody when . . . in walked President Trump.

The room went dead silent. So I stopped playing, stood up and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, President Trump."

Adam and Cris then walked up to the stage and President Trump met them. I sat holding my breath at the piano, and as President Trump walked by, he looked at me, then looked at the crowd and said, "wow, what a talent!"

I smiled and graciously said "thank you, Mr. President."

He congratulated the bride and groom, and before he walked off the stage, he turned and talked to me for a few seconds about his day in court. HA!  When he got to the bottom of the stairs off the stage, I started to play The National Anthem.

Everyone instantly stood and sang . . . loudly . . .  with their hand over the heart . . .  looking at President Trump. 

I was done, and as I walked down the slippery makeshift stairs, President Trump grabbed my hand to help me down.

We had a brief salutation  . . . and then he was off (with a dozen secret service members escorting him). 

The next day before we packed up, as we were heading to our room we noticed a beautiful woman sitting out on the balcony next to our room. It was Melania. She was dressed in all-white. Hair in a ponytail. She was reading. Maybe she was working on her new book? I think so. On another trip up to our room we could see President Trump through the window, wearing a white golf shirt, talking to a woman in housekeeping making up his room. He was smiling. They were friendly. 

Everyone at Mar-a-Lago loves President Trump. They adore him.

Not knowing if I'd ever get the opportunity to return, I tried to take in all the detail of this Palm Beach mansion. The three days blew by, and before we knew it, we were driving back out through the security gates, and on our way back home to Minnesota.

I now have two favorite places where I've had the opportunity to peform. The White House. And now Mar-a-Lago. What a beautiful and legendary place with such history. 

Many people have different opinions about President Trump. Some people like him, some people dislike him, and some people absolutely love him. No matter what you think about President Trump, there is one thing we can all agree on.

I got to play for the most famous person in the world.

And . . . 

"Wow. What a talent."

Last week we were listening to Lorie Line Pandora Radio and a song came up that I recorded years ago. I was getting ready upstairs and Tim was working in our office.  A few songs later he came upstairs and asked if I heard it and said it sounded just beautiful. I responded, "funny you say that, because I thought it was terrible! I play so differently now."

I had been thinking about the song. It was too fast. It sounded "anxious" to me. The melody line dropped out. It didn't have the emotional Lorie Line phrasing that I have worked on for hours and hours and developed over the years. Why in the world did I play like that? I wished I could do it again.

And then it came to me. I played too fast because of the pressure I felt working with a fellow musician on the song. We just never had great personal chemistry and 30 years ago I might have felt I had something to prove. In any case, I overcompensated, and played the song how I felt that day. (It's funny . . . all these years later, and I still remember that feeling.)

I think this happens a lot in life . . you can't put your finger on it . . . but sometimes there's something going on that prohibits you from being your best self. Some people might have good intentions, but they prevent you from moving forward. I've been reflecting on this for a couple of years. Hearing that song put the pieces of the puzzle together for me.

During this past holiday tour a handful of my biggest fans wrote or spoke to me (not solicited, not knowing each other) and they all said they had been watching me for over 30 years, had come to almost every concert . . . and there was something different about me this year. In a good way. In fact, very good. They described me as happy . . . content . . . comfortable.

They were right. They are right.

And in my reflection, I know why. 

It started eight years ago with The Living Room Series. I decided to simplify, just play the piano all by myself for a small crowd in my own home, tell a few stories, laugh and act silly, and talk and play to friends and fans who would sit up close, right next to me (like the Dayton's days). Performing all by myself in a small space and in a less formal gathering forced me to find myself. Musically, spiritually, and personally.

At first it was scary. Frightening. But then . . .  I got my groove on.  And then . . .  I loved it.  I knew I was (once again) onto something in my career (and in my personal life) that was taking me in a different direction. Moving me forward.  So for eight years I have practiced being myself . . .  all by myself.

And then I took this new-found freedom to the stage.

Nothing to prove, no anxiousness, no overcompensating, no bad chemistry.

"Happy, content, comfortable."

After over 30 years of performing, I have found my best self. And it's right where I first started. 

All by myself.

 

Ms. Line now performs about 50 solo piano concerts a year. A handful of them are in her own living room.

This is the favorite time in her career.

This past year she featured a fabulous vocalist. They had great personal chemistry.

Photo taken by Tim at Mar-a-Lago, February, 2024. Ms. Line performed in the Grand Ballroom the previous night. All by herself.

THE STORY

In the very early days at Dayton's, I remember taking over at the piano for one of the more experienced pianists at the downtown Minneapolis store. Her shift was up and I was next to serenade shoppers. She was in a hurry and couldn't chat long because she was off to play a private party that night. A private party? I asked her how she got hired, and she told me that merely placing a business card on the piano got her the job.

Oh, I was excited! I could do this! Surely I could play private parties! I would get all dressed up, and make my way into some of the most beautiful homes in the Twin Cities to play for them for a few hours on the piano. The food! The beautiful people! The spectacular homes!

Hopefully I would get hired.

So, I printed business cards and started putting them out on the piano every time I played. And just in case, I brought my day timer along with me.

Sure enough. Bam! I got hired. I was off and running.

I started supplementing my meager department store income.  I worked every job that was offered to me.

In the five years that I played for Dayton's, I was hired for over 300 events. Some days I played the piano 11 hours. I'd play five hours for Dayton's, then hop in my car and go and play two back-to-back holiday parties. I'd get home at midnight. It was certainly an exciting time in my life and to this day, some of my favorite moments of playing the piano were during these years. (And I still have some of the friends who took a chance on me, and hired me to play for their special occasion.) 

Some fans started "memorizing" my schedule. I always played at Southdale on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes people would be waiting for me and they'd stay and listen (standing) for a couple of hours. We'd get to know each other through my music, I made hundreds . . . maybe thousands of friends. 

One Sunday afternoon at Southdale a young man walked up to me and asked if I played for weddings. Of course! He told me the date he was going to get married and I opened up my day timer and booked the date. 

I wondered why the groom was hiring me. Typically it was the bride (and her mother) that would come and see me. Well, I could tell that Ric was up to something special. He took a breath and asked if I would consider writing an original song for his bride for their wedding day. It would be his gift to her. I definitely was all in, and he happily walked away. 

A few months later, as the wedding was approaching, I started to work on the original song. Nothing would come to me. I sat down several times and struggled to even come up with a single pretty melody line. I guess I just wasn't inspired because I didn't know the bride. And I knew nothing about her, just her name.

Pam.

The wedding was coming up on Saturday, and Ric called me on Wednesday and asked if he could come over and hear the new song that I would be playing for his beautiful bride. I struggled to come up with words. I can only recall saying, "Ric, I am just putting the final touches on the song . . . and I want it to be a surprise for you too."

"Oh, and by the way, can you tell me more about Pam?"

Ric told me that his bride was a talented seamstress and quilter who loved to create clothing for family and friends. In that instant, I was flooded with memories . . . the sound of my mother's sewing maching whirring in the background at night as I drifted off to sleep . . .  waking up the next morning to find a new outfit hanging on my bedroom door. Shopping for fabric. Recital dresses, competition dresses . . . my mother spending endless hours at the sewing machine.

You see, my grandmother was the one who taught my mother how to sew. And when I was little, my grandmother made many dresses for me. She always saved a remnant. And when I turned 21 years old, she put all the dresses into a quilt and gave the quilt to me as a special gift for my birthday. 

All these memories flooded back to me in that five minute conversation with Ric.

And now I knew Pam. I loved her!

That night I sat down at the piano. In 10 minutes, the composition "Threads of Love" came to life.

Three days later I played the song at their wedding. It was a hit. Many people came up and encouraged me to record the tune. So I did, and I took a picture of the quilt that my grandmother made me and it became the cover for the album. 

In 1992 we released the album, Threads of Love, and it took off in gift stores across the country. That led to major retail interest, which put us on the map in the music world.  (Musicland was the giant in the industry and the first large music store to carry my music. The remaining retailers in the industry all followed.) 

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this song would launch my career and become my signature piece. 

This year we celebrate the 30th year anniversary of a pretty song, dedicated to a woman I never met . . .  until her wedding day.

To Pam.

CONGRATULATIONS TO RIC AND PAM FOR NOW OVER 30 YEARS OF MARRIAGE!

TO LISTEN AND WATCH LORIE PLAY THREADS OF LOVE ON YOUTUBE CLICK HERE

TO PURCHASE SHEET MUSIC, CD OR DIGITAL THREADS OF LOVE SHEET MUSIC CLICK HERE

PICTURED BELOW (six photos)

Lorie with her mother and daughter - featured Threads of Love article December 1998 in AMERICAN PATCHWORK & QUILTING

Lorie and her (85-year old) mother. Photo taken 22 years later, this summer (2022) in Reno, Nevada

Lorie with her day timer (and business cards) at Dayton's 1988-1993

Customers standing at Dayton's listening to Lorie 1988-1993 (notice the day timer in the piano)

Lorie's grandmother who made the quilt (Frances Mann) and gave it to her in 1979

Ric and Pam's 1991 wedding picture

 

This very personal blog is written to inspire others. I promise . . . if I can do it, you can do it.

 

I've been blogging for almost 10 years. 

I first started blogging because I had a goal. I wanted to someday write THIS blog. I knew if I started writing things down, I'd grow. I'd think more clearly. I'd take personal responsibility for some things where I needed improvement. I'd be accountable to a huge (but very kind) audience. In the process I might become a better writer.  But most importantly, I wanted to set a good example for others, specifically my own two children. So, that's why I started blogging.

Today is the day I finally get to share what's been on my mind all these years. 

My very first memory of learning about bills and finances was at the kitchen table with my dad. I was probably 8 years old and he got out his pile of monthly bills and the checkbook. He taught me how to look at the bill and write out the check, put it in the envelope, address it, place a stamp on it and mail it. I specifically remember that there weren't many checks he had to write. I do remember that they always wrote out a "church check" for the upcoming Sunday. They faithfully tithed and I saw my Dad drop that check in the "collection plate" every Sunday.

It's a good memory for me.

I don't ever remember my parents using a credit card for anything. Maybe they did, but it wasn't a common practice. And if they did, I'm certain they paid it all off on a timely basis. They didn't take out bank loans.

My Dad started his own paralegal business when I was in high school, and I remember our family being on a very strict budget. We lived very simply. We went out to lunch after church on special days, and oh was that a treat. (Growing up in Reno, there was something amazing about casino food and buffets.)

We always took a little (modest) summer vacation. Typically we'd drive in our station wagon over the hill to San Francisco. We always had presents under the tree at Christmastime . . . of course some years were better than others. But we never felt like we were "doing without." My parents were middle America . . .  young, hard-working, PTA members and church-going dreamers. Of course your background always makes up who you are today. Mine certainly did. I absolutely love where I came from.

I've always been ambitious. And I've always had a good job. One thing I know how to do is work hard (both Tim and I are just wired that way). So when the Dayton's part-time job landed for me, I turned my $20/hour ($560 a week) job into the land of opportunity. As many of you know, CDs were recorded and I started publishing my music. We started touring, and before we knew it, Lorie Line Music was a million dollar company.

When you are an entrepreneur, most of the time you "invest in yourself" and you "invest in your business." (How many times have you heard that famous line?) We grew so fast we thought it wise to have a (million dollar) line of credit from the bank. Touring is very expensive. We'd borrow, pay it back, borrow again, pay it back. We continued to grow and thrive. The more we made, the more we could borrow. I was being responsible, right? Banks (plural) loved us.

In 2002, Lorie Line Music was awarded Ernst & Young's Entrepreneur Of The Year. It's a very coveted prize. We were on cloud nine. 

Here's where we went wrong.

We thought it would never end. 

The great recession came in 2008 and somehow we survived (but we were miserable). And then, two short years later (2010) the music industry shut down. CDs would no longer be sold to consumers. Music retail stores virtually closed their doors over night. And all of our inventory was returned to us.

Now we were going to now make our money doing something so foreign to us that I didn't quite understand it at first. Streaming. We'd now make 1/1000th of a penny if a song got played digitally. (It would take years to see a healthy check . . . if ever.) 

Everything came to a screeching halt. A great recession and the crash of the music business all within two years. (What else could possibly go wrong? Ha. . . you know the story is not over.) 

Trust me. We would have been fine . . . had we not owed any money to anyone. But we did. And now we were stuck. And we were going to lose it all. 

I was recording the album Serendipity at that time. I remember one early morning I came down the stairs to get a cup of coffee and the sun was pouring into all the windows. It was a spiritual moment for me as reality set in. I was going to have to say goodbye to this beautiful home. I was all by myself and was totally overcome with grief. Right then and there, I stood in that sunlight and prayed for God to hear me. I promised that if He would give me another chance, I would be a good steward of everything He gave me. 

I went upstairs and showered. That day I wrote and recorded "Casa Blanca Me Encanto." The white house that I love. 

Tim and I decided to change. To make new habits. (I grew up knowing this as repentance.) We had been so proud of all our accomplishments, but now we were ever so humbled. We were going to turn and walk down a new road. 

It was so painful. But today as Tim and I look back, we both know all of this was meant to be.

Because . . . in the process of our struggles, we were richly blessed. Here we were, scared and desperate, and yet together we found something ever so priceless. Something more important to us than anything and everything. 

Yes, we were reacquainted with an old friend . . . someone who would wipe away all our tears. Someone who paid it all. 

What a friend we have in Jesus . . . all our sins and griefs to bear . . . 

We mounted up. And put on the armor of God.

So I'd heard about this Dave Ramsey guy and his FINANCIAL FREEDOM program. We picked up his book THE TOTAL MONEY MAKEOVER and started reading out loud in the car when we'd drive. I didn't have to go far into the book to see what we had to do and how to do it. We could do this! OMG. Can we do this?  Will I live long enough to make this new financial freedom thing happen? Dave says it takes nine years to get things straighted out when you are in a mess. Nine years? That would be 2019. OK. But we weren't the "typical" client with a little mess. We had a big mess. It would take us longer.

We'd work harder.

And so it began. First, every credit card was paid off. Then we sold everything we didn't need (including three investment properties) and simplified. We had an Ebay site that helped to support us and it profited us six figures the first year. We parted with anything and everything that would produce income. (We hired an Ebay manager because it was such a big project!) We let go of some things I really loved. Esmeralda (my white concert grand piano) was sold and shipped to a buyer in Hong Kong. Who needs two concert grand pianos? I'll keep the one I love.

The last thing we sold was my wedding ring. (You may have noticed it hasn't been on my hand in any photography for several years.) I promised myself I wouldn't be sad when I took it off my finger and shipped it in a small box to someone I didn't even know. In a weird way, I didn't want it anymore. It was too fancy. I was different now.

We woke up one day . . .  and it was 2019. Nine years had passed. And here we were, still in our home that we loved.

God heard my prayer. We were going to make it.

That year we came home from the holiday tour feeling pretty good. We could taste it. We were going to be totally debt free. The following week, January 7, 2020 (10 years now) I walked into the bank and made the final payment on our last bank loan. I had Tim take a picture of me with the final check in hand so that I would never forget this day.  

All of the Dave Ramsey items were now completely checked off the list. I started thinking about writing this blog. We were debt free.

And then . . . BAM!!! Yep. The story continues. (What else could possibly go wrong?) 

The pandemic hit.

We were once again terrified. We'd come so far! 

Our business shut down for two years. (Many of you prayed for us. I can't thank you enough.) 

I don't know how we did it, but we survived. With no touring income, we reinvented ourselves in many ways to keep our business going. Today I know the only way we made it was having no debt when we came home from that tour. We were able to hang on for two years! 

But now that I think about it, it's a pretty simple solution to a problem. No debt equals no bills.

I thank God every day for answering my prayer. I will never forget that vivid morning when I stood in the ray of sunlight . . . which sometimes feels like yesterday and other days feels like a hundred years ago.

Today I reflect back on my childhood at that kitchen table with my dad. I now have a very small pile of bills every month. And oh is it ever so wonderful.

I don't know the future. It is scary writing this because you just never know. We still could lose it all. The world is a mess. Our country is a mess. We could face WWIII, a plague, a great depression, another recession (experts say this is coming end of the year), a nuclear bombing, a cyberattack, sickness, famine, a severe energy crisis, chemical warfare, another pandemic. (I believe we will continue to face hard times for several years now.) Mount up.

One thing is for sure . . . we're all living a different reality these days and we all know that nothing is for sure anymore. 

But one thing I do know. . . I will keep my promise to be a good steward of all that He has given me for the rest of my life.

The above photo was taken on January 7, 2020 in front of our local bank. The check in my hand was our final payment on our last bank loan.

Today all Lorie Line Music projects and tours are self-funded. 

Ms. Line now wears an OURA ring on her wedding finger which has a small computer chip in it to track exercise and sleep. Her sleep patterns most nights are "optimal."

Through perseverance, hard work, creativity and answered prayers, Lorie Line Music is once again a million dollar company.

 

Click here to listen to the song Casa Blanca Me Encanto on YouTube.

FREE! Click here to download the song Casa Blanca Me Encanto.

CLICK HERE TO READ DAVE RAMSEY'S SEVEN BABY STEPS TO FINANCIAL FREEDOM.