Glass House
Nov 6, 2008 ramblings
I just read “Grace” by Richard Paul Evans, a novel. An easy yet intriguing read, primarily because it’s a story of the heart. While it’s comprised of classic elements, the outcome is challenging, and very much speaks to my being.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve looked high and low for a summary statement about my feelings toward the deceptive time in which we live. I’m taken aback at the level of compromise our society embraces, and that “making history” is more important than truth, integrity and honor.
“Grace”, I believe, provided the perspective for which I’ve been searching:
“I had a dream that the world turned to glass.
Those who had much to hide were very afraid.”
When I got over the knot in my stomach caused by contemplating the vileness of my own heart, I wondered when we, as a people, stopped caring about the level of transparency expected from executive leadership — or how far some are willing to carry out or minimize the impact of a lie for personal gain, or contribute in any way to such fallacy.
There is no stone in my hand, just a question… why?
Suppose…
On my way to San Diego for a work related conference, I started reading “Blue Like Jazz” by Donald Miller, non-religious thoughts on spiritual Christianity. Right out of the gate I was captivated by a statement about jazz being a product of the first generation of post slavery Negroes. I studied Jazz in college, and though I played the genre for many years, never became an accomplished jazz musician. For all my time within these circles I’d never heard this fact about the purveyors of the only true American art form.
So I started thinking about how this mindset has impacted my life. That is, where has conflict played itself out in ways I could not have expected and enabled me to either prosper or go in a direction that compelled me to explore creative or spiritual channels I otherwise might not have considered. No need to for excruciating detail, but there was a season I managed to invite trouble in various shapes and forms into my life, and with fairly regular consistency. I managed to lose my driving privileges, and had to work within reasonable distance from my apartment. So while working as a waiter at a vegetarian restaurant located about a 10 minute bicycle ride away, I overheard a fellow waiter’s mother, a local public service celebrity, having a conversation about an opportunity that led to a junior college music scholarship, which I can honestly say I likely wasn’t qualified for. But I worked my tail off and actually got through my first level of formal music education, including my first taste of various flavors of jazz.
A little more than a year after getting married to my precious wife, Karen, things in the local music scene were getting rocky. My wife sees an add in a newspaper for military musicians, specifically the Navy. I call the number and talk to someone who invites me to audition. So the day of the audition, I call and ask for the person I’d originally spoken with and they were not expecting me. Seems most folks that get these type interviews are brought in by recruiters or some other “reputable” source. I’m pretty sure the smirks were real as I passed through a rehearsal room to “jam” with a rhythm section. I was a pretty scraggly, long haired presentation, not military looking whatsoever… they accepted me just the same.
Just ten months later, having gone through boot camp and six months of military music training, I checked into my first Navy band in Newport, RI. A year later, in the midst yet another tempest created by my own selfishness and inability to recognize and cling to grace, our first son was born. By God’s mercy my wife endured this season of turmoil and we headed back to FL a couple of years later. It was the end of my enlistment and I somehow had come to the conclusion the Navy wasn’t my career path, though I’d been offered the bass instructor gig at the school of music where I learned how to be a military musician. End Part A of my second level of formal music education.
Suppose my wife had left me, suppose I decided to re-up and go to another band, or take the bass instructor position? Well, I didn’t, which led to a series life changing events over the next couple of years. I heard some intriguing music that totally drew me in, on a contemporary Christian station. I got a job that was supposed to be for a woman at a communications shop where three guys evangelized me. Suppose I’d changed the station and never went back to it, or wasn’t forced to take a administrative assistant job I really needed, suppose I didn’t respond to the message of the Gospel?
As it were, I ended up in a great blues band by night and working as a graphics, data, network guy for a day job. I was struggling in many ways just to make ends meet for our family now of two boys, as well as the notion of being a new Christian, which I really had little grasp on, and ended up back in the Navy Music Program for another couple of years — all this being Part B of my second level of music education.
After leaving the Navy, and the routine of working a day job and playing whatever gigs I could get, I chose to play music only in church, leading to yet another set of circumstances that otherwise would not have happened. At a Saturday morning rehearsal, one of the worship vocalists ask for a few minutes to share a lyric for the sake of having someone put it music. A bit to my surprise, no one jumped in… I’d done this once before in college, so I took the challenge. I guess I’d always been a sort of a songwriter, but this one event helped me realize I could get back to music outside the context of such structured musical vehicles like the Navy or church. Suddenly the chips began to fall such that I met with a friend from a previous job who is an indie artist that invites me to a meeting held by a local chapter of Nashville based songwriting association… suppose I’d not listened to the voice of encouragement at that Saturday morning rehearsal.
For the last five or so years I’ve been honing a new set of musical skills, while adding the fundamentals of being a writer. But having a full-time day job makes being a serious writer difficult. I do mentally draining work all day long, and though I try to spend time on a song or playing music in some form or fashion just about every day, it’s easy to get discouraged about chasing a dream at this stage in my life.
As long as there’s breath, there will be conflict and resolution — risk and reward — faith and hope. Challenges can bring pain, but without them there’s no refinement of my being. I want to grow as a person, father, husband, writer, and musician… by past grace I’ve made it this far, by future grace I will run this race to the end. I’m pretty sure if I had never found the blog that led me to “Blue Like Jazz” I’d still have these perspectives, I suppose just not in the same light.
Tags: conflict, crossroad, grace, resolution, suppose
Perception-Reality-Truth
Mar 30, 2008 faith
When I woke up this morning, I sensed (very strongly) God had something different in mind for this Sunday morning. I found the church where Don Poythress leads worship, Abundant Life, in Mt. Juliet. It’s a modest building with a small congregation, one seemingly surrounded by several large churches I saw along the route in. Their sign says they are an “interdenominational” congregation.
Worship was well so done. Seems several of the church elders are on the worship team, quality musicians and everything sounded as one would expect this close to the heart of Nashville. At one point during worship, a woman asked to speak, and shared a phrase she’d had laid on her heart some time ago, she felt this was the moment to share it:
Perception is reality, but not always truth…
I don’t know if she knew that one of the guitarists, Jim LaVerde, an elder, associate pastor and assistant leader of the worship team, would be filling in for the senior pastor today. But her prophetic word really set the stage for the context of the rest of the service. Don had shared (somewhat apprehensively) before service started that today’s service would be very much out of the ordinary. Truth is, I believe this service could be the main reason God brought me to Nashville this week.
Jim embarked on engaging the congregation in dialog around the “American Church”. He started out with accounts of personal experiences with religiosity, and national averages for church attendance. With Don and one of the other elders flanked to his right, he then began asking questions of the congregation regarding the level of fervency, if not urgency, that appears to be absent in many congregations across the country.
The responsiveness, and genuiness of the congregation was humbling and convicting, and what I thought most cool about it all, is that while there are struggles and our passions may waver and wane, there is a lot of good work in progress, quiet servitude, based in love… for God’s glory.
Who knows if I’ll ever set foot in that building again, or ever come back to Nashville. I do know this, the challenge before me is much greater than any dream about music or writing. Hearing and seeing what I was privileged to witness today lifted my spirits and has me thinking about my focus and priorities. It’s time to bow in thanksgiving and ask the Lord to help me find my way into and through places I didn’t know I could or should go. It’s time to get beyond perception by trusting the compass of his word, which leads to truth. The key here is to trust when I don’t understand, and have faith for the outcome.
Tags: Abundant Life, grace, LaVerde, Mt. Juliet, Poythress, TN
For the Asking
Nov 18, 2007 faith
A songwriter friend asked me Friday night how I find time to do anything but work and tend to our family and household, in the context of a conversation about being a songwriter/artist. I thought about it (again — this wasn’t the first or last conversation on the matter) on the drive home and came to a simple conclusion: grace. Perhaps this sounds trite, but I see grace as the oil for my soul, and in context of the time and effort I’m able to put into music and writing, it’s all of grace.
First and foremost, I believe the source of this grace is God. But it’s practical manifestation is what I need to recognize, acknowledge daily, and most importantly be ever grateful for. Not just in a ho-hum prayer of thanks, but deep within, where thanksgiving trumps my passion for self-absorption.
I keep a dictionary of theology near my desk (Baker’s). Two grace definition keywords are speaking to me in the context of this thread: “undeserved favor”. It’s so easy for me to stumble over that which I don’t get done because of my commitments in life, that I’m prone to forgetting any time or effort applied toward writing is a measure of undeserved favor. I’m fortunate to have one job that supplies abundantly for our family instead of having to struggle working 14-16 hours daily to simply make ends meet. Our family is healthy. My wife encourages me to spend time on music and writing. Our children sing my songs back to me. So, how often and how do I thank them, and God? Honestly, not often enough — not by a longshot.
The very fact that I’m writing a post on this topic is grace in that God wants me to reflect on the the matter. I’m pretty sure it’s not about the music or songs, but about the scraping of the sludge on my heart. Psalm 51:6 says “surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place.” I’ve read this passage almost daily now for a couple of weeks and these words are serving to oil the cracks left behind by the scraping. Grace is favor, it’s free, and it’s available to anyone who’s humble enough to want it and ask for it… including me.