OK, I GIVE! It’s been a while, and I will try to give a cliff notes version of the past couple of months.
My pastor retired in February, and that was tough. My friend Tim Gabbard stepped up and took the bull by the horns (so to speak.) The other members of the staff at LFA helped to take the reigns, and our church has gone places that I couldn’t have dreamed. The music has been phenomenal, and the environment we were able to worship in was mind-blowing. It seemed that each week offered a chance to catch our breath and get prepared to make new strides.
Then, Tim heard the voice of God. I can honestly say that I was crushed when he told me that he was moving. It was an abnormal Wednesday night. We did some work in the choir room, and I didn’t get to play that night. He asked me to come to his office for a few minutes, and his tone made me think that he had finally found a good drummer. All of the progress, all of the growth, and all of the great experiences had lead up to a let down for me. It took a few days to finally be able to enjoy a full-night’s sleep again. After his going away party (I’ll post more about Tim in a few days,) we had a chance to talk. I mentioned something that I have been holding onto for the last couple of years.
Comfort can be an intoxicating kidnapper of purpose and opportunity.
When I first started volunteering at the church, I took a place in the choir. I had never been deeply involved in any sort of vocal anything up to that point, and it was a bit of a stretch. I saw the look of freedom on the faces of those in the choir, and it was the same sort of freedom that I was looking for. I had the opportunity to sing a little while in college, but I had changed a great deal since then. Tim hadn’t been at the church long when I tuned my pipes and joined in.
Singing was more about the group that I was singing with than the song I was singing, but it turned my heart back to something that I had a huge love for – drums. I was blessed with a little bonus check, and it covered the hand-drums that I found at a great discount. I don’t think I ever asked permission to bring the drums up. I guess that this was the first limb that I stepped out on – and I guess I pushed Tim out on it as well. Sorry, boss.
It would have been easy to take that bonus check and spend it on many different things. It would have been nice to have a bigger TV, or newer phone, or better computer at the time. Buying the drums was a stretch, and it paid back countless encounters with Jesus. There was a need for healing in my soul that I never knew to exist. If I had chosen to sit in the comfortable place that was right in front of my eyes, the opportunities to bless my saviour would not have happened. It made the next limb that I had to climb out on much easier to reach.
Our drummer at the time was awesome. He had great skill, and he had the most important tool that any good drummer possesses – a drum kit. He is a great man, and I enjoyed the time that we had to play together. His heart was pulled in a different direction, and he left our team a few months before Thanksgiving a couple of years ago. New drummers came in and played, but there was never an absolutely seamless fit. Tim asked me to think about playing the kit, and my blood turned to ice. This time, he shoved me out onto the limb.
I honestly had the opinion that I would sit in for a few weeks and get through Christmas. I really enjoyed playing jazz, and that was what our play list was comprised of for that season. Two weeks into it, I was thrown out of my comfort zone and into the freeway. Re-learning how you play what you play when you play it is as confusing as what you just read. I threw out most of the music that I was listening to and immersed myself in worship music. I spent entire days listening to people praise God, and I didn’t realize that my heart was starting to develop a need for this. There was a yearning for the presence of God that was overwhelming. It was addictive.
My eyes have been opened while playing those drums. I can look out at our congregation and see people that are really going through it. I can see the absolute release of burdens during worship, and it rocks! I personally know their stories, and I have cried tears out on their behalf. There are those that have been touched by cancer, death, crumbling finances, divorce, and pretty much anything at the disposal of evil. Yet they cry tears of worship to a Risen Saviour. The Generations services aren’t spared from this presence, either. Intense and focused worship is found on the knees of those that kneel at the feet of Jesus every Wednesday night. I would’nt have experienced this first-hand if it were not for a few weeks of terror as I was taken out of my comfort zone.
I can honestly say that I know why the rocks would cry out if they were commanded to do so. In Luke 19, the story is related that tells of how the crowd was shouting praises about what Jesus had done before them.
Luke 19:39 and 40 – NIV 39 “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, Rebuke your disciples!’ 40′I tell you,’ He replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.’”
I think the reason that the stones would cry out is that they were the foundation of the world. In creation, rock is the base layer for all that follows. Geology shows images of mountains that are cut away to reveal marvelous time lines in their different layers. In my mind, this means that rocks were the first on the scene as God’s hand stretched out over the face of the deep. The had a front-row seat to the majestic wonders of creation, and they are itching for the chance to shout their praises. They are stretched to uncomfortable limits only to form new rocks. Their growth comes at the expense of their comfort.
The coming weeks bring more changes, and I am confident in what is possible because of what I have seen. Jesus is stretching me, and I hope He blesses me with more growth. It may be tough, and that growth will be paid for by surrending my comfort.
It is a worthwhile tab to have running…
