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The Story of a Gentle Music Man

Music Man

By DiVoran Lites

We enjoy music in our church.  We had a good set of big band drums. Then our drummer left and someone moved in a set no one could play. They were digital drums and as ugly as a group of garbage can lids, only smaller. We prayed for a drummer, someone to keep the time.

Last week, Tom, a veteran of Middle Eastern wars, put down his guitar and was trying to get the digital drums to play. This week, Tom, was moving the Big Band drums back into place, because the digital drums are worn out.

Tom wasn’t happy with the way the big-band drums went with our type of music so he thought over the rhythm problem and brought in his bass guitar yesterday. It has a beautiful deep sound that goes right down into your core. Tom says he was having a hard time with his amplifier and his teeth were vibrating from the sound created by the bass. You never know what he’s going to do or say next. What fun—that’s a gift from God as well.

Tom sometimes needs a ride to work after church. He stocks meat at a big store. The other day at church he was limping so I asked if he was hurting—duh. He said he had shrapnel in his ankle and the change in the weather was playing havoc with it. I prayed for the right things to say, since he seemed to want to talk, but I was out of my zone. Bill moved the passenger seat back so Tom could fit into the car. He’s a big man and he looks strong and healthy, which is a bit deceiving because of the extent of his injuries.

Once, he wondered aloud why he lived when so many others died. He’s a humble man and lives rather simply.  He has his wife, and she is a gentle person. He takes a book to work to read on his break, sometimes he carries it in his hand and sometimes he sticks it in the waistband of his pants in the back.

Yesterday he sat down at the keyboard and played a soft background song that later he said he had “made up.” He seems puzzled that he can play any instrument around. His little daughter says she can too and wonders why everyone cannot. I’m not so much puzzled; as I am in awe of God’s giving of gifts. We all have them you know, and they make our lives sweeter. One can only wonder where Tom’s life will go from here. I hope he gets to play all the music that is in his soul and in his big hands and that many will hear it.

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