True Song

I sat there in the front pew on Friday morning; i was the only one in the church so I went ahead and wailed away on the guitar and sang.  After playing a few songs I go back to one of the first songs I learned.  April Showers by Caedmon's Call.  Why'd I learn that one?  Well, it had a tab and chords which involved picking and strumming and if I could play that song, well then people would be impressed because I could do both in one song.  As I played that song, those same thoughts re-entered my mind as I wondered if anyone would come in the church, hear me play and be impressed...

...yes, i crave praise like that...

...and that's when I heard it.  Not an audible voice, but this whisper that said.  You can't play the guitar.  Oh,
you can fake it, and you've figured out some of the tricks to play the right chords and such with some fancy palm muting and whatnot...but you really can't play the guitar.  You don't know any kind of music theory or anything and if, IF a jam session were to erupt and you were called on to play from within...you'd be without.

And as quickly as my guitar skills were humbled, so was my faith...and you better not let your faith become that either.  If you think an ability to play the 'right chords' to make the 'right sound' is music to My ears...then you don't know my song very well.

 - Do I have your heart?

I sat quiet.  humbled.  ashamed....

 - Well, do I?  Do I have your heart?

Oh, how I want You to!  Lord, I want you to take my heart!

 - That's not how this goes.  I'm not taking it.  You know that.  Do I have your heart?

Lord Jesus, yes, please!  Take it, take it, take it...

 - Would you let it go?  Do you trust me?  Do you trust me to teach you how to play my song?

Oh, to play the song of the Most High.  That the life and breath of God would flow through me as melody and harmony in perfect sync drawing all hearts to Him.  Do we do what we have to do to look like we think we should...or does He have our heart?

Here's my heart.  Make it yours.

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breathe

this is the hardest.  no, not the down in the dumps, world is crashing around me feeling.  that emotion actually keep me moving and reminds me i'm living.  its that feeling of silence all around, that feeling of, i know You're there but i can't feel you or hear you.  i sometimes think it's some cosmic game of hard-to-get.  how long will i wait?  how hard will I seek?  or maybe, just maybe, how long until i just sit?

maybe the silence serves no other purpose than to teach me to breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out.  and that is in those breaths that a touch of the divine reminds me of the Breath that gives me life. maybe the silence is a reminder emotion is a trickster, and to live with a quiet heart and mind is a gift and a blessing.  maybe the silence is a reminder that God's presence and moving has nothing to do with how hard i work or how happy i am or how hurt i am.  God's presence is because God is God.

the silence teaches me that.

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momma told me there'd be days like this...

so there was this conversation between friends yesterday in which one walked away a bit concerned about the other.  you see, her friend seemed to be doing fine...no signs of sadness, despondency, or anything...but there also seemed to be no signs of joy, no signs of excitement.  it was as if she was just there.  now, i know there are seasons in life, we go through those kinds of things, its natural....but it got me thinking about our time out here...

'momma told me there'd be days like this, days like this my momma said...'

i've sung myself that many times.  there have been many days where i couldn't be more frustrated, wondering what in the world we are doing...are we having any kind of impact? are we being faithful?  are we being obedient...cause surely we'd be able to see some kind of growth right?  but I distinctly remember, during those times of frustration, sadness, anger...if someone asked me how things were going...stories would flow, stories I couldn't have recalled in moments where i was by myself, stories that didn't seem big in the moments they happened, but stories i could tell of how God is moving...even if what seems like, ever so slightly.  and as i would tell those stories, even in my sadness...joy would creep through, the stories would overcome any sense of sadness or frustration because God would show me that its worth it.  God would show me, that even in those moments of frustration, moments of 'are you kidding me?!' Emmanuel is still Emmanuel.  and that is cause for joy.

thats the power of story i think.  well, maybe its the power of God within the story, but as we swap stories, as we share about real life change, no matter how small, they infuse a sort of joy, excitement, anticipation and expectation for more...like this story has more chapters to be written, dialog to share...the story goes on, and Emmanuel remains...

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