It Lies Between Chilhowie And Glade Spring Virginia! Boy, Isn't He A Gift Giver!

Boy, Isn’t He a Gift Giver Down a little dirt road between Chilhowie and Glade Spring, in a place called Friendship, Virginia, God was handing me diamonds before I even knew what they were worth. That’s the heart of this song. It didn’t come from some fancy idea or clever hook I chased. It came straight out of the soil of my childhood—real memories that still smell like fresh-cut grass and river water. I’m Ronda Washburn Thompson (now RJ Thompson), and “Boy, Isn’t He a Gift Giver” is one of the most personal songs I’ve ever written. It’s packed with the little things that weren’t little at all. They were treasures God tucked into my hands when I was just a girl: the Holston River where my daddy, my sister Janeen, and I got baptized together on May 1, 1983, Easter Sunday just weeks before. The rain stopped right on time, the water was freezing, but standing there as a family with over twenty others—that moment got marked on my soul with permanent ink. It’s Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jackie’s cabins by the water, where the world slowed down and a child could breathe. Wild strawberries on the hillside with Janeen and our neighbor Lois Testerman—eating as many as we picked, laughing in the sunshine. Big wild mountain blackberries that left us scratched, stained purple, and grinning because we knew hot blackberry cobbler with melting vanilla ice cream was waiting. Lightning bugs so thick they turned the yard into blinking wonder—we caught them in Mason jars like God had handed us little pieces of heaven. Fresh-cut grass on Saturday mornings wasn’t just a smell. It was safety. It was my daddy and uncle working with sweat on their brows, that quiet pride when the lines were straight and the job was done right. I’d stand there with coffee in my hand breathing it all in—love in work boots. And the trout wrapped in foil over a bonfire? That was river air, firelight, family, and a whole day wrapped up in one steaming bite. Jeff Blevins even taught me how to open it without burning myself. Those details stay with you. Then there was Friendship Baptist Church. That little country church with the gravel lot grew into something beautiful, but I loved it in every stage. The choir—Tom Brown’s low notes, Debbie Anderson’s high ones. My Aunt Nancy smiling at me from the congregation, then suddenly motioning for me to take the gum out of my mouth. Homecoming Jubilee and Irene Edmonston’s cherry cheesecake. Helping clean up afterward so I could feel useful, like I belonged. And yes, the holy and the human all mixed together—like that Sunday a sweet toddler in ruffled panties let out a loud one during the sermon, sending a cloud of baby powder into the air. The whole church tried to hold it together… until we couldn’t. Laughter rolled through like grace itself. That’s church, y’all—worship, family, correction, and babies being babies while everybody loves them anyway. These weren’t random moments. They were gifts. God knew exactly what my heart would need years later. He knew fresh-cut grass would always mean home. Wild strawberries would taste like pure joy. Lightning bugs would feel like wonder. The Holston River would carry the memory of my baptism. Friendship Baptist Church would lay part of my foundation. Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jackie’s cabins would be some of the happiest places I’ve ever known. He knew the people, the places, and the simple things that would leave fingerprints on my soul. And He gave them anyway. Boy, isn’t He a Gift Giver? If these memories stir something in you—if they remind you of the “little” things God placed in your own life that turned out to be diamonds—share this song. Let it point someone else back to the Father who sees every detail of your heart and delights in giving good gifts. Drop a comment with your own favorite memory or the gift you’re most thankful for. I read every one. ~ RJ Thompson (From the heart of a Louisiana girl who still carries Virginia treasures.) ❤️ "The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essence of inhumanity." ~ George Bernard Shaw #harmonyalliance #originalchristianmusic #rjthompsonlyricist #christianlyricsong #christianmusic Harmony Alliance, Praise and Worship Music, Joyful Praise, Christian Worship, Christian Rock, Christian Country, Christian R&B, Christian Lyric Videos, Faith Music, Uplifting Music, Jesus Loves You Music, Congregational Worship, Original Christian Songs, Gospel Worship, Worship for All, The Revealed Mind Studio, RJ Thompson, Ronda Jane Washburn-Thompson, ChristianLyricsong, Original Christian Music, Louisiana Front Porch Praise, RJ Thompson Lyricist