The Story of a Gentle Music Man

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.

The Song of My Life

Song of My LifeI love singing with the praise team at church. Our director has an astonishing talent. We are a small congregation, none of us  formally trained in music except for singing most of our lives. We do it all by ear, including the musicians. I’m not sure how we sound, but for me, singing is like art, I like to do well and be appreciated, but the most important thing is the doing of either one. I read today, May 5, in Streams in the Desert about not letting the song go out of my life. We can,

“sing our cares away easier than we can reason them away.”

This means we can choose to worry and fret; we can try to figure things out for ourselves, or we can tell God about our experiences, our thoughts, and our fears, and ask him for wisdom and guidance. Many times he will fight the battles for us. We’ll look around and the problems have melted. That’s what can come of thanking Him, praising Him, and singing to Him when we have needs or when we wish to express our gratitude to Him for all the love and grace he has poured into our lives.