I’m gonna lose my mind…well maybe not, but a little humble pie is definitely hard to swallow sometimes. Two amusing things happened this past weekend which served as gentle reminders of who is in control and running the show.
First, on the way home from a night out on the town with the Valero’s, Baltrus’, and the new Garner’s, we were heading down Riggs Road about 20 minutes from home. It was about 1:30 in the morning and we were tired (and alcohol free in case you were wondering) and I just wanted to get home and go to bed.
Not paying attention to the fact that it was 45mph and me going a steady 65mph, a car in the shadows with no lights on pulled out behind us with its headlights on after we passed it. I remember Kim saying “I hope that wasn’t a cop” and me saying “ I don’t think so.” A couple seconds later, I was pulling off to the side of the road to the strobing blue and red lights.
When the officer asked for my license and insurance, I handed it to him and thought…‘he looks kind of familiar’. Sure enough, when he came back he handed them back to me and asked “Did you go to Southwestern [Bible College]?” When I said I did, I remembered who he was immediately. We laughed a little and he asked what I was up to these days to which I sheepishly replied “oh…helping with a church-plant.”
He was interested and I told him briefly about it. After a couple minutes of catching up, he graciously let me go advising me to drive more carefully and that I was lucky it was him. Anxious to leave before he changed his mind, we parted company before I realized I didn’t do much in the way of reciprocating in the asking of how he was doing.
The second tasting of sweet humbleness occurred two days later on Sunday morning at, of all places, church. I was asked the Sunday prior to lead the worship for our church, Rock Eternal, the following Sunday, and despite the fact that I only played with the band a few times and I didn’t know most of their songs, I agreed.
After meeting with the worship leader, Jason, I had a handful of songs that I knew as did the rest of the band and that the congregation would be familiar with. After spending all week preparing so that I could play with “excellence” and not mess up, I got to church a bit apprehensive with a drummer I haven’t played with before and a bass player I only played once with.
Practice went well, and I felt very confident. I prayed and went over all the right things and prepared to go out onto stage. I opened up with a prayer and felt fully confident- perhaps too confident.
At this point, I should mention that I replaced my strings on my acoustic the previous night, but having had played enough since, I wasn’t too worried about it going out of tune.
When I started the first song, “Beautiful One” I noticed I couldn’t hear my guitar very well in my monitor given the fact that the room we meet in is a elementary school cafeteria, and there was a lot of reverb, but I heard my guitar enough to where I wasn’t too concerned.
I sang the first line and started to sing the second verse by mistake and quickly corrected myself- no big deal, that happens sometimes. I kept going and played, closed my eyes, and worshipped when a few thoughts crept into the back of my mind like ‘I sound really good’ and ‘people must be really impressed with my singing right now.’ These thoughts weren’t in the forefront of my thinking however, and as a musician, these thoughts are particularly difficult plague to avoid at times when leading worship since, after all, we are prideful people and being up front makes it a continuous battle to deny one’s self when so much physical attention and focus is on you.
There I was, singing like I was a finalist on American Idol (but with more self-respect), and when I got to the bridge where it was just me and the guitar, I noticed my guitar was severely out of tune, almost as if the whole thing went a half-step flat (lower). I stopped playing and sang a cappella frantically trying to figure out what to do since I was the only guitarist and I still had to go back into the chorus again.
I just hoped against hope that it wasn’t as badly out of tune as I thought and that the sound man would turn me down if it was, and finished the song. I ended with the bridge with “just our voices” to save face. After it was done, I turned to Kim who had no clue anything was wrong and asked her to pray since she was the only one in the position to do so and I couldn’t go on with my guitar as it was. I felt bad at the look of surprise on her face knowing how uncomfortable she is praying up front, but I didn’t see another option.
I turned around and strummed my guitar to find to my shock and amazement that it was in perfect tune- I had been singing a half-step sharp (higher)! Utterly confused by this, I had to force myself to get a grip and continue on. The rest of the set went smoothly though my pride was a bit more in check.
I still don’t know how it happened since that has never happened to me before, especially on a song I have played a hundred times. The only thing I can think was that I tuned into a reverberating echo from somewhere in the concrete and tile room that bounced back to me.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be as much of a distraction to everyone as I feared it was; even the sound man didn’t notice anything and thought everything sounded good. Steve noticed something was off, but just thought it was the room. I just laughed about it later, and thanked God for the second lesson that weekend, and took the hint.
Sufficed to say this weekend was a time of humility and reminders of God’s grace, power, control and majesty. I need to learn to slow down, enjoy life, and especially His love.
First, on the way home from a night out on the town with the Valero’s, Baltrus’, and the new Garner’s, we were heading down Riggs Road about 20 minutes from home. It was about 1:30 in the morning and we were tired (and alcohol free in case you were wondering) and I just wanted to get home and go to bed.
Not paying attention to the fact that it was 45mph and me going a steady 65mph, a car in the shadows with no lights on pulled out behind us with its headlights on after we passed it. I remember Kim saying “I hope that wasn’t a cop” and me saying “ I don’t think so.” A couple seconds later, I was pulling off to the side of the road to the strobing blue and red lights.
When the officer asked for my license and insurance, I handed it to him and thought…‘he looks kind of familiar’. Sure enough, when he came back he handed them back to me and asked “Did you go to Southwestern [Bible College]?” When I said I did, I remembered who he was immediately. We laughed a little and he asked what I was up to these days to which I sheepishly replied “oh…helping with a church-plant.”
He was interested and I told him briefly about it. After a couple minutes of catching up, he graciously let me go advising me to drive more carefully and that I was lucky it was him. Anxious to leave before he changed his mind, we parted company before I realized I didn’t do much in the way of reciprocating in the asking of how he was doing.
The second tasting of sweet humbleness occurred two days later on Sunday morning at, of all places, church. I was asked the Sunday prior to lead the worship for our church, Rock Eternal, the following Sunday, and despite the fact that I only played with the band a few times and I didn’t know most of their songs, I agreed.
After meeting with the worship leader, Jason, I had a handful of songs that I knew as did the rest of the band and that the congregation would be familiar with. After spending all week preparing so that I could play with “excellence” and not mess up, I got to church a bit apprehensive with a drummer I haven’t played with before and a bass player I only played once with.
Practice went well, and I felt very confident. I prayed and went over all the right things and prepared to go out onto stage. I opened up with a prayer and felt fully confident- perhaps too confident.
At this point, I should mention that I replaced my strings on my acoustic the previous night, but having had played enough since, I wasn’t too worried about it going out of tune.
When I started the first song, “Beautiful One” I noticed I couldn’t hear my guitar very well in my monitor given the fact that the room we meet in is a elementary school cafeteria, and there was a lot of reverb, but I heard my guitar enough to where I wasn’t too concerned.
I sang the first line and started to sing the second verse by mistake and quickly corrected myself- no big deal, that happens sometimes. I kept going and played, closed my eyes, and worshipped when a few thoughts crept into the back of my mind like ‘I sound really good’ and ‘people must be really impressed with my singing right now.’ These thoughts weren’t in the forefront of my thinking however, and as a musician, these thoughts are particularly difficult plague to avoid at times when leading worship since, after all, we are prideful people and being up front makes it a continuous battle to deny one’s self when so much physical attention and focus is on you.
There I was, singing like I was a finalist on American Idol (but with more self-respect), and when I got to the bridge where it was just me and the guitar, I noticed my guitar was severely out of tune, almost as if the whole thing went a half-step flat (lower). I stopped playing and sang a cappella frantically trying to figure out what to do since I was the only guitarist and I still had to go back into the chorus again.
I just hoped against hope that it wasn’t as badly out of tune as I thought and that the sound man would turn me down if it was, and finished the song. I ended with the bridge with “just our voices” to save face. After it was done, I turned to Kim who had no clue anything was wrong and asked her to pray since she was the only one in the position to do so and I couldn’t go on with my guitar as it was. I felt bad at the look of surprise on her face knowing how uncomfortable she is praying up front, but I didn’t see another option.
I turned around and strummed my guitar to find to my shock and amazement that it was in perfect tune- I had been singing a half-step sharp (higher)! Utterly confused by this, I had to force myself to get a grip and continue on. The rest of the set went smoothly though my pride was a bit more in check.
I still don’t know how it happened since that has never happened to me before, especially on a song I have played a hundred times. The only thing I can think was that I tuned into a reverberating echo from somewhere in the concrete and tile room that bounced back to me.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be as much of a distraction to everyone as I feared it was; even the sound man didn’t notice anything and thought everything sounded good. Steve noticed something was off, but just thought it was the room. I just laughed about it later, and thanked God for the second lesson that weekend, and took the hint.
Sufficed to say this weekend was a time of humility and reminders of God’s grace, power, control and majesty. I need to learn to slow down, enjoy life, and especially His love.
1 comment:
You write very well.
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