I Guess Tumbleweed Was The Only Other Option

Pardon me while I ramble on like some incoherent idiot for a minute. I have no idea what I hope to accomplish with the following, but oh well.

I think I am a bushel. Never thought I’d actually be one, but I have a feeling I’ve become one—one of a few human bushels in my church.

I remember walking into the church to which I belong before I was ever officially in the church. It happened to be a Christmas musical. The entire cadre of soloists was impressive to me, especially for a church body that was comparatively smaller than either of the two charismatic tank-top churches we have in our town (you know, the ones where people sort of migrate between them, and never really get to know each other?)

Anyway, I also remember that a whole host of people that sit next to me now in the pews and never sing specials now were also the ones carrying sometimes-demanding parts in this Christmas special—then.

Now, some thirteen years later, I occupy many bases on the musical field. I play guitar, and also sing, primarily, but I also play drums, bass, and whatever else I may need to play. Sometimes I move between these instruments, depending on the needs of the service and song.

Now, admittedly, I have a strong voice—the kind that has that gritty, bluesy, whiskey-soaked edge that is perfectly suited for the choir’s “barn-burner” songs. And I’m the easy guy to get for this, because I demure from very little musically, and I’m not really flummoxed by the last-minute need to learn new material, and deliver it.

But I get a little overwhelmed with hearing me all the time. Quite frankly, I’d love to hear the people I first heard singing give it a go again. But when I ask them about the possibility, they recoil like I’ve just asked them to blaspheme the faith.

“No, I’d be too nervous,” is the usual, boilerplate answer.

“Hey, I don’t see why, it’s only been thirteen years since you stood with a microphone in front of people,” I’ll retort with the sort of soft sarcasm that let’s them know I’m mainly teasing them. They then reply that I “do things so much better” than they could “ever hope to.”

Those statements sadden me.

It occurred to me. Somehow, my Jonny-on-the-spot approaches to music ministry in the church provides a very comfortable cleft in the rock of timidity for others. Sure, God gave me a whole bunch of talents, and I’m guilty of using them all—constantly. But I’d like to see some of these other brothers and sisters use what they were given as well. And I’d like to see it often.

Who knows what blessings are waiting to be delivered on the wings of their obedience?

I guess God does.