Do You Filter Out the Music?

 

I was participating in an online faith development group called Spiritflow, one of the ministries of Pinnacle Leadership Associates.  Mark, who leads the group,  enlisted me to lead a centering activity for the gathering, a time to center the group's thinking on God and the theme of the meeting. Knowing that we were focusing our time on the practice of “Allowing,” welcoming God's loving work in our lives, my mind went to a scripture and a song I wanted to use to focus our group on the topic of the day.  The scripture was Ephesians 1:17-20,

 I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. ¹⁸ I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, ¹⁹ and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength ²⁰ he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms… 

Having read that scripture, I took my guitar in hand and shared a musical arrangement of the words of that passage.  I’m not an accomplished singer or guitarist, but I usually present well enough that the music is a positive contribution to the moment.  That’s when this singing experience became a little strange.  I didn’t feel that I was connecting with the other members of the gathering.  The music wasn’t having the impact I dreamed it would have.  I finished the song and, rather sheepishly, called on Lexanne, another group leader, to begin the prayer time.  All through the session, I wondered why the music didn’t get through. 

After our gathering concluded, a few of us hung around a few minutes longer to process and evaluate the meeting.  As we relived the session, Chris, another group leader, asked me what turned out to be a very timely question, “Dee, before you sang your song, did you choose the Zoom sound option “Maintain original sound for music?”  I didn’t know such a thing existed.  Chris, more a native to technology than this aging tech immigrant, was also seeking an explanation, not for what he felt, but what he heard.  Zoom’s audio component filters out all sounds other than a human voice to minimize distractions.  Most often, that’s a good thing, but not when you are singing with guitar.  The program filtered out almost all of the guitar sounds, leaving only my voice and Watergate-like gaps of silence between vocal phrases.  The music was there.  I played it and heard it!  But it didn’t reach the ears or the hearts of my hearers because the music was filtered out. 

Part of the spiritual act of allowing is experiencing God’s goodness and redemptive work in a personal way.  God is always making the music of love and grace.  I wonder if my heart isn’t “set” in a way that filters out the music of the Christian life.  I hear the ideas, the requirements, the demands of discipleship, but not the music of God’s tender love and redemptive involvement in every moment of my life. Believing the music is real and present, I need to change the setting of my heart until I hear it, learn it, and join it.  Do you hear the music of God's loving work or do you filter it out?  

The Brace and the Blessing

L

inda and I are blessed to be the parents of three healthy happy children.  Words cannot capture my feelings of joy and gratitude when I saw Elizabeth, then Joshua, then Andrew for the first time and saw that they were whole and well.  Some weeks after Joshua's birth, however, we discovered a problem with his feet.  Joshua's feet were not straight--they were turned in rather badly.  We were troubled by what this could mean to his future, not wanting anything to impede his walk. 

     At the advice of our pediatrician, we waited a couple of months to see if the problem would correct itself, but it did not.  We then sought the help of an orthopedic specialist.  After a thorough examination, he gave us some good news; Joshua's walk could be straightened out.  Then came the bad news--this change would not come that day in the doctor's office.  His walk could not be straightened with a pill or even a shot.  Joshua's walk would be straightened only through weeks of stretc­hing exercises, several sets of casts, orthopedic shoes, and several months of sleeping in shoes bolted to a brace.  

During those weeks and months of treatment, especially on those nights when I bolted that brace on to those little shoes on those little feet, I felt both the promise of blessing my son's life and the pain of burdening his life.  Sometimes the pain felt stronger than the promise.  I asked myself more than once, "Will this brace make enough difference to be worth the bother?"

     Months passed and Joshua no longer needed to wear his brace.  Those shortened naps and restless nights were over.  As I look back upon the cost and benefit of that brace, I can answer my question with a new perspective. "Was the brace worth the trou­ble?  Just look at the difference it made in his walk!"

     Many of us have mixed feelings when we hear the call to grow in Christ through a personal devotional life.  We see that our walk is not what it could or should be.  We do not want to fall short of what God has created us to be.  We are excited to hear the good news that our walk can be straight­ened, our lives can be changed for the better, we can fulfill the purpose for which God has given us life.  But then comes the bad news.  Our walk is not straightened out with one prayer or one trip to the altar.  Our walk is not even corrected by a weekly appearance at a house of worship.  Our walk is only straightened out by a long process--a costly commit­ment to a lifestyle of study, reflection and appli­cation of God's Word.  As we undertake this kind of life, we feel both the promise of a better life and the demand of the process of attaining it.  We ask ourselves, "Will this ‘brace’ of my spiritual walk make enough difference to be worth the work?"

     I still have Joshua's orthopedic brace.  He doesn't use it anymore, but I do.  The excuse I give Linda for not throwing it away is that I can, with Joshua's permission, use it as an object lesson for a children's sermon.  But mostly, I keep it as a reminder of the cost and the reward of a life of discipleship.  I keep it to remind me that if I really want to straighten out my crooked walk, I must do for myself what I did for Joshua.  I must stretch my mind through study.  I must live in an orthopedic attitude of prayer--an attitude which will constantly bend my thoughts and feelings in a God-ward direction.  And I must strap on the brace of God's Word which will align my heart with the heart of God.  No, I'll never throw that little brace away.  Why not?  Because every time I saw Joshua perform with his school’s jump-rope team or fast-break down the basketball court or round third base on his way to home, or take a walk with dad, and remember the price he paid to straighten out his feet for those feats, I learned a great lesson all over again.  The promise is worth the pain.  The reward is worth the regimen.  The blessing is worth the brace.    

This story is taken from my new book, Led By a Child: Truths My Children Have Taught Me About God. Click here to learn more. 

The Power of Asking

 This story is an excerpt from my new book, Led By a Child: Truths My Children Taught Me About God. The book is available in paperback, hardback, and e-book formats at Amazon.  

T

he Vaughan family, Dee, Linda, and three-year-old Elizabeth, attended a wedding rehearsal dinner for Eddie and Kim. After the meal, the tearful speeches and corny jokes, the bride and groom began distributing gifts to their wedding party. Elizabeth watched this with great interest and asked, “What are they doing, daddy?”  I explained, as best I could, that Eddie and Kim wanted to thank the people who would help them with their wedding the next day by giving them a gift. She pondered my answer but, apparently, didn’t find it totally satisfying.

     Nearing Elizabeth’s bedtime, Linda and I, with Elizabeth in my arms, made our way to the head table to thank the groom’s family for the wonderful meal and to tell the young couple that we’d see them the next day. Kim, who adored little Elizabeth, told her that she was very glad she could come to her rehearsal dinner. Elizabeth, still in my arms, leaned toward the bride as though she needed to whisper a secret to her. Though their faces were indeed close, my daughter didn’t whisper and what she said was anything but a secret. Elizabeth told the bride, “Sometimes little children like to get presents, too.”  I pulled Elizabeth back as though she’d tried to bite the bride and apologized for her comment. Kim laughed at Elizabeth’s words and didn’t forget them. The next morning, the day of her wedding, Kim showed up at our back door with a wrapped gift for Elizabeth.

     Jesus encouraged those who follow Him to ask for what we believe we need. 

     “Ask and it will be given to you:  seek and you will find; knock and the door will be     opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to        the one who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8).  

     Children are often bold to ask, as my daughter was at the rehearsal dinner.  They may not have mastered every nuance of social etiquette, but they do have confidence to ask the grownups in their lives for what they need (and want).  Sadly, as many of us grow up, we lose our willingness to ask.  And in our silence our needs often go unmet.  May we reclaim the boldness that knows that asking one who loves you is a powerful way to change life for the better.