This past weekend I played guitar for Ed and Alicia’s wedding. It was a bit of stretch for me to get back into leading music wtih my six string. I spent the last several weeks practicing my guitar in my closet at night so I wouldn’t disturb the kids. There were some people at the wedding who were amazed that I even knew how to play the guitar. One friend joked and asked me if I remembered what a D chord was. How times have changed! I used to lead a worship band in college. My Fender Strat was my “girlfriend.” While I was doing my internship during seminary, people couldn’t imagine me doing anything BUT play the guitar and lead music in the church. I remember it being a slow transition for people to see that I could also speak messages.
In our previous home, we used to have a room where I kept all my music gear — several guitars, drums, recording stuff. We called it our music room, and for a short time it was. People would come over and we would jam. But as I became more involved with different leadership roles in the church this room became neglected. After a few years I began referring to the room as my former identity, a dream that died.
It’s not as bad as it sounds though. Music is still an important part of my life. I can still spend an entire evening browsing iTunes for music. And I had fun playing at Ed & Alicia’s wedding. But my guitar has shifted from being a deep part of my identity to the sidelines. God has awakened within me deeper passions for leadership in the local church, building spiritual communities, and for helping people find the joy of being in a relationship with Jesus. And in my case (this certainly isn’t the case for many people) this deeper passion has required some sacrifices. It’s a transition that hasn’t come easily, but I have no regrets.
On a completely different note…
We had a water softener salesman come by the house the other day. We’re already his customers so he wasn’t trying to sell us anything. But he did bring with him a couple of large black briefcases, probably full of brochures and samples. On the way out the door he said, “let me just get my kits and I’ll be on my way.” After he left, Emi, who happened to be standing next to me listening to our conversation, whispered to me with a very concerned look on her face. “He’s got kids in there!”
(Edit 9/7/06: Something about my comments above bothers me. My life is more fragmented than I’d like. I need to find a way to integrate my passions into a whole experience.)
