I've been meaning to start converting my thoughts into words
for some time now. For whatever reason I've been putting it off. Maybe I'm too
busy at times. Maybe I'm just being lazy. Maybe I'm really afraid to see my
thoughts in print. Who knows but here we go.
I've been keeping myself musically busy at our church ever since the demise of my role in Black Rose Mourning. You may or may not know this, either way you do now. A lot went into my decision to bow out. To try to explain it would be like trying to describe how water feels to the touch. Some things you just have to experience to understand.
I found myself playing for our churches outreach program called Celebrate/recovery (CR for short) this past Friday. I play drums at the Statesville campus weekly on Thursdays for CR but the need arose at our Mt. View campus for a bass player so I decided to step up and lend them a hand.
It had been a long week at work and home. Work had really been bearing down on me and Friday I found myself actually out in the field getting dirty with the rest of the guys. At home, Marlee was still sick and Sam had just thrown up his dinner so Cindy stayed home while I went and "served".
I was still pretty dirty when I showed up on the Mtn. View campus. I was hungry (we never stopped for lunch & to be honest my pocket was pretty empty anyways) and dirty so I slipped into the bathroom for a quick clean up before rehearsal and dinner (CR supplies dinner for the people that come no matter who you are).
All the guys in the CR band we're all really cool. Some I knew, some I didn't but all we're happy to see me and generally happy to be there. We went over the songs and afterwards I went to the kitchen for some grub. I got my tray and was happy to see anything on there. I sat down and felt like I was a ton of bricks that someone dropped off at some jobsite.
I sat there...alone. Partly by choice. I wasn't really in the mood for small talk but if someone would've sat down strangely enough I would've enjoyed the company. I started to observe who was there. Some people were normal on the surface but if you're at CR you've got or had issues, whether you can see them or not. Some people were clearly right off of the streets. "Thank God they're here. At least they're getting a meal in a safe place tonight..." I thought to myself.
A guy came in and was led to a table. His jeans were dirty and he was being reassured that no one really cared what he looked like. We were just happy to have him there. (too bad this guy didn't see me not 15 minutes earlier in the bathroom with paper towels trying to beat the dirt off my jeans and shoes because I was going to be playing in front of him in about 30 minutes). He seemed very thankful to sit down and have a decent meal. My heart really went out to him but the words escaped me so I just went back to staring down my mac and cheese.
I started to become very introspective. I had a 1/8 of a tank of gas in the truck I was driving (my father in laws truck no less) a dollar in my wallet and I had just sat down for the first meal of my day at 6:30 in the evening. I had just called the company that owns our house to tell them that our payment was going to be a week late. Both kids were sick at home and I was here "serving". I thought to myself "I'm just one paycheck away from being "served" myself and here I am giving myself away when I'm running on fumes.
I never serve with the attitude that if I give God this, I'll get this in return. I don't think I have a God I have to barter with. I didn't have to "do" or "give" anything to get salvation. It was a gift given to me whether I accept it is totally on me. This same feeling I have about what I give. With that being said though...
I've been keeping myself musically busy at our church ever since the demise of my role in Black Rose Mourning. You may or may not know this, either way you do now. A lot went into my decision to bow out. To try to explain it would be like trying to describe how water feels to the touch. Some things you just have to experience to understand.
I found myself playing for our churches outreach program called Celebrate/recovery (CR for short) this past Friday. I play drums at the Statesville campus weekly on Thursdays for CR but the need arose at our Mt. View campus for a bass player so I decided to step up and lend them a hand.
It had been a long week at work and home. Work had really been bearing down on me and Friday I found myself actually out in the field getting dirty with the rest of the guys. At home, Marlee was still sick and Sam had just thrown up his dinner so Cindy stayed home while I went and "served".
I was still pretty dirty when I showed up on the Mtn. View campus. I was hungry (we never stopped for lunch & to be honest my pocket was pretty empty anyways) and dirty so I slipped into the bathroom for a quick clean up before rehearsal and dinner (CR supplies dinner for the people that come no matter who you are).
All the guys in the CR band we're all really cool. Some I knew, some I didn't but all we're happy to see me and generally happy to be there. We went over the songs and afterwards I went to the kitchen for some grub. I got my tray and was happy to see anything on there. I sat down and felt like I was a ton of bricks that someone dropped off at some jobsite.
I sat there...alone. Partly by choice. I wasn't really in the mood for small talk but if someone would've sat down strangely enough I would've enjoyed the company. I started to observe who was there. Some people were normal on the surface but if you're at CR you've got or had issues, whether you can see them or not. Some people were clearly right off of the streets. "Thank God they're here. At least they're getting a meal in a safe place tonight..." I thought to myself.
A guy came in and was led to a table. His jeans were dirty and he was being reassured that no one really cared what he looked like. We were just happy to have him there. (too bad this guy didn't see me not 15 minutes earlier in the bathroom with paper towels trying to beat the dirt off my jeans and shoes because I was going to be playing in front of him in about 30 minutes). He seemed very thankful to sit down and have a decent meal. My heart really went out to him but the words escaped me so I just went back to staring down my mac and cheese.
I started to become very introspective. I had a 1/8 of a tank of gas in the truck I was driving (my father in laws truck no less) a dollar in my wallet and I had just sat down for the first meal of my day at 6:30 in the evening. I had just called the company that owns our house to tell them that our payment was going to be a week late. Both kids were sick at home and I was here "serving". I thought to myself "I'm just one paycheck away from being "served" myself and here I am giving myself away when I'm running on fumes.
I never serve with the attitude that if I give God this, I'll get this in return. I don't think I have a God I have to barter with. I didn't have to "do" or "give" anything to get salvation. It was a gift given to me whether I accept it is totally on me. This same feeling I have about what I give. With that being said though...
Lord...I'm on E right now and I don't know how much farther I can go. I'm not looking for money bags to start falling from heaven but I really would appreciate you throwing me and my family a bone right now.
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