“Oh, my gosh!” our son exclaimed as he and his sister hurried in from a summer day at the beach. “It’s way too loud in here and Dad . . . I can’t believe you’re actually playing an air guitar. Not cool!” he joked as he shook his head and grinned.

I wish I had thought to grab my phone and take a picture. Our spontaneous dive into such youthful behavior had been brought on by the sounds of Gerry Beckly and Dewey Bennell, better known as the band, “America.” Think back and you may remember them — they married folk and country sounds with good old rock ’n roll in the ‘70s, much like the Eagles and Jackson Browne did so successfully.

My husband had just slid our America CD into the stereo, turned up the volume, and presented me with concert tickets when the kids arrived for dinner. I like it when we can surprise them with such antics. It provides that moment of surprise when they honestly believe they have us all figured out.

Instinctively I grabbed a metal whisk from the utensil drawer and began singing words I had not uttered in ages. I laughed at my own silly antics and privately wondered why I could easily sing the lyrics to “A Horse with No Name” into my impromptu microphone, but find it necessary to stick Post-It Notes as reminders for those everyday tasks needing my attention.

I experienced sweet anticipation at the thought of joining other Baby Boomers at the concert, for I did not even know America still performed. I also savored a night out with my husband, to reminisce and celebrate the sounds that molded our courtship. It all sounded just fine with me.

When the big night finally arrived it was with mild amusement that I watched the middle-aged, graying crowd seat themselves and eagerly glance through their programs. Maybe it was the beauty of the outdoor theater or the knowledge that we would soon feel the beat of the drums inside our chests and be able to mouth the familiar lyrics as we sat in an audience of devotees. Maybe it was the fact that my husband and I could hold hands without comment from our kids. Whatever the case, we nearly vibrated with energy and speculated as to how the band had aged and if their music could produce those old, familiar feelings deep inside us.

We were not disappointed.

Before we knew it the sweet sounds of America filled the theater and I realized that what I saw was much more than a group of 40-something musicians still rocking after all these years. I saw longevity and loyalty, staying power and long-term success, obviously produced by a true love of music as well as the continual support of fans that grew up with them.

What surprised me most, however, was suddenly visualizing myself as a young girl once again, a girl who had begun a relationship with God the very year Beckly and Bennell won a Grammy award.

I am now aware of how simple life was back then, but at the time life did not feel simple to me. I was living on my own and trying not only to perform well in college, but live happily in a co-ed dorm with a diverse group of classmates as neighbors. Back then a group of us proclaimed Christians would meet each week for worship and Bible study in a room at the end of the hall. Faith felt rather political, even cliquish back then. I felt cool and passionate about my beliefs and wore faith like a badge of courage.

God has remained a part of my life in the intervening years, only He is much more personal to me now. And although He has not changed, I have, in so many ways. I not only want the Lord in my life these days, but I need Him. I want God to help me to be a happy and faithful spouse, a good parent, and energetic community member, and supportive force to my friends and family members. I need God to hear me and respond when I ask that He give me courage and clarity into situations that fog my life with fear rather than the sunshine of hope.

He has never let me down.

My husband and I have changed. We’re graying like the rest of the crowd. But a few things will forever stay the same: rock ‘n roll and a faithful God who chooses to interact with us no matter what our situations or the condition of our lives.

Joan Bay Klope is a freelance writer and speaker who makes her home on Whidbey Island. Her award-winning column has run for 12 years in Western Washington newspapers. E-mail comments and speaking requests to faithfulliving@hotmail.com .