Harmony

I love this guitar. But I do not love tuning it. My Taylor has a really sweet tone....if you tune it properly. There is a proverb somewhere that states,"Guitarists spend half their time playing and the other half tuning." The keyboardists just sigh and wait for the string winding to stop. But, man, I love that sweet sound of new strings tuned to the last harmonic. When I can just play, let myself go, and enjoy that creative release without always focusing on that crazy b string. (What is the deal, here?! Give me that tuner again...) Life is just like that. Ever since God gave man choice, we have had disharmony here. Even on my instrument, if five out of six strings are just right, that sixth one can ruin the whole thing. In my personal journey, I am always tuning something. Paul told us to "work out" our own salvation "with fear and trembling". He was not abdicating forming our own way to God, but warning us that, even with a real experience from God, walking it out is not automatic. Work out what is in you, with fear and trembling. We need to strive carefully, cautious that our inward walk with Christ is not cloaked with outward disharmony. John's first letter tells us that if we do not love the brethren, our love for God is a lie. Easier said than done, hence the fear and trembling part. Tuning our relationships is a lot harder than tuning a guitar, but the harmony achieved is the best part of life on this wayward planet. Well, I better get back to tuning.

Silence

Silence is the one thing we do not have in America. I think that the best thing I can do for my sanity is just being quiet and alone for awhile. This, of course, is easier said than done. We have televisions everywhere, radios in the car, cellphones, and, of course, computers. I am sure that my five-year-old's battery operated toothbrush came with a basic texting plan. But let us not forget that the Creator tells us to "Be still and know that I am God." We are like so many cattle being herded who knows where, reacting to one deadline after another. Stimuli come with mind-numbing speed. I have really been concerned for my kids lately. This generation is so entertained that they need to learn how to enjoy just being together. Where I had to make up games, build my own toys, and make bombs out of shotgun shells...(scratch that)....we have filled the world with devices that entertain you with the least amount of effort. No need to imagine, it all imagines for you. As adults, we are no better.
I spent twelve hours in the rain yesterday, soaked to my skin. Just part of my job. But, with everyone else in the world staying inside, I worked in almost complete solitude. I think it was one of the best days I have had in a long time. The mind and the spirit both need time to process the bitter and sweet of daily life. Be still and know. Selah.

Simple Things

The older I get, the more the simple things impress me.
When I first started playing bass guitar as a teenager, I met a guy who could play circles around me. He told me something I did not understand until much later: "The bass is easy to play, but hard to get good at."
See, anybody can learn to play the bass. So no one is impressed when you say, "I'm a bass player." Sure, so is everyone else. " You have a guitar and a drum. All you need to make a band is a bass player. Toby's little brother is there...yea, he'll do. That's sort of how I got started in music.
"You ever played bass before?"
"No, but I think I can do it."
"Okay. You can play with us on a trial basis."
Voila! I'm a 'bassist'.
But if anyone can do it, it means you have to really step it up to be impressive.
Kind of like the slam dunk contest in the NBA. Now, how many NBA players can't slam dunk?
So, to win the title, you have to do something supernaturally difficult. As in, triple back-flip slam dunk over your head while drinking a glass of iced tea....
But having the slam dunk contest winner on your team has nothing to do with winning championships. And I was in trouble with band leaders for years for playing way too "over-the-top" on bass. It did not mean we sounded good, it just meant that all you noticed was the bass. (But is that so bad?? Anyway...)
I want to be a great husband and father more than I want to have an awesome career. That is a new priority for me. I mean, I was a great dad and all, but, anybody can be a dad....
But it takes persistent attention to the everyday things to win at home, to be the best dad, husband, friend....And I know a lot of "successful" people who have unenviable home lives.
There is not a lot of market demand for the behind-the-scenes kind of success. But when you see it, you realize that it is the only kind that lasts.
Maybe I should just get really good at the perfect lay-up.

Cargo Cult Church

On the Island of Tanna, in the South Pacific paradise of Vanuatu, we find the John Frum movement. Fifty years ago today, the American Flag was first raised over the villages of Tanna. Large airstrips were built by the natives. They had bamboo control towers, complete with wooden antennas and coconut headsets. The natives painted USA on their bodies and marched in mock drills. All in hopes of receiving a shipment of cargo from a plane that has never come. You see, this is the last living example of the Cargo Cults that sprung up all over the Pacific during World War II. The natives were overwhelmed by the prosperity that came with U.S. occupation. The "cargo", as they called all Western goods and equipment, made the Allied forces invincible and the locals who were lucky enough to be employed by them rich beyond their dreams.
Where did these magical guns and planes and radios and jeeps come from? When the foreigners explained that these were all manufactured by humans, this explanation was dismissed as an obvious lie. Only the gods could give such gifts. When the war was over and western troops were gone, the tribe missed the cargo greatly. So they decided to re-enact the Americans rituals in an effort to coax the gods into returning with more cargo.
Before you laugh too loudly, think of this: God has moved among His people throughout the centuries. These visitations have come with different signs and "rituals". Sunday school, the altar call, that special kind of music, that style of preaching, the dancing, or shaking, or silence....Yet when we ask, how did this begin? It is always, "Prayer, fasting, repentance, hungering after God and His Word..." This is too simplistic. Anyone could do that...there must be some special dispensation of divine grace, a mystical mysterious spiritual phenomenon.
Maybe if we just sing those songs again, and preach like that, and have this kind of service...We imitate revival in hopes that God will drop it on us. But only the real, personal, private burning of each individual heart can fan the flames of revival. God is not calling us to set the world on fire with yesterdays revival, but to come back to the cross, trusting that Christ alone can save not only this broken world, but our broken lives.
(From July 20, 2008)

Growing

"First you were a baby. Then you were a boy. Then you were a man. Then you were my Daddy," Josiah told me as I put him in bed. He is four (Why is grass green, Daddy?) and he wants to understand how everything relates to everything else.
"My eyes are shaped like yours, and Ethan's are shaped like Mama's."
"Yes, Josiah, that's right."
"But Ethan's eyes are blue, like yours, and mine are green like Mama's."
"That's true, baby."
"Why?"
Growing up is sometimes confusing, but always exciting. I thought about Josiah's progression for a minute. Baby, then boy, then man, then Daddy. I thought about all the other roles that I have taken on. Husband, Pastor, Friend...I got a driver's license, got my first job, moved out of the house, registered to vote, was fired from my first job...But all the while I am growing. I am either growing more like Jesus, or more like the world. I am learning to forgive, or I am building up my defenses, or both.
I have come to realize that I am called to change the world, but I can not even change myself. Only Jesus can work any good in me. Why do I think I can change others by myself? All I can do is point them to Christ.
You know, the more my son grows up, the more independent he becomes. But the more I grow up in Jesus, the more dependent I become.
Why?


(First posted on Saturday, June 28, 2008)

It came from the blog...

It's amazing how fast our world changes these days. When I was a kid, I would have been scared to go to a blog. I mean, a black hole sounds nicer than b-l-o-g... As in, "Creature From the Blog". Or maybe "The Blog That Ate Texas." So when I told my mom I had a blog, I think she was trying to figure out if she should be alarmed or not.
"What exactly is a blog?"
"It's just a web log, Mom." I could tell that didn't help.
"Now I can write whatever I think and anyone in the world can go and read it." Now she knew we were all in trouble.

From Dec. 7, 2007

A new start

I have decided to come out of seclusion and begin blogging again.
Look for some old stuff from previous blogs and e-mail letters soon...sort of a "best of" from the last ten years. Or maybe not. It's my blog, so,anyway.

Man, it's nice to smell that big ole' blogosphere again!