Two Observations

Estimated reading time: 2 minute(s)

On this, the eve of my 29th birthday… I have a couple observations from the recent past:

(1) Empty Greatness

We were driving from southern West Virginia to Buffalo, NY area on Thanksgiving Day, and as you might imagine, not much of anything was open… everyone was at a home eating turkey! Well, we came over a hill and I noticed a lot full of cars, and I said to myself (Jen was sleeping…), "Now there’s a happenin’ place!" I quickly realized that it was actually an auto dealer. 🙂 But it was a pretty cool picture of what goes on at some churches… on the outside, it might appear as though things are rockin’… but on the inside — just emptiness. Appearances can be deceiving.

(2) The Heart Of God

Today I drove 30 miles in a blizzard to do a concert for 10-15 people in a bookstore. Not always the thing you want to be doing on an already busy day… BUT, there was one lady there who seemed genuinely touched by the music (and, mostly, I was just doing Christmas carols!) She came over and asked me if I could do a song from our CDs… and I agreed. After the song, she was visibly touched and she said, "That’s the heart of God. You know? That’s the heart of God." And I said, "Yeah, I know" Almost passing it off. But something about that moment struck me, and reminded me.

Everything that I do in this music ministry we call ours is from him. Anything of consequence is from God. People hear and see and know the heart of God through what we do, and it’s not my fault! I didn’t play or sing it particualrly well… I just wanted to get out of there… but I forgot that God called us to this, and HE does way more than I could EVER do through our music.

How strange. How wonderful. How could I be so flippant with such an opportunity, a gift, from God?

It is the heart of God – for me, and for all who will hear – through the strings of a guitar and the strings of flesh in my throat. What a strange ride we’re on – but I was reminded today of how amazing it is. Hope I don’t quickly forget.

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