Today I sold my guitar.
It was the most valuable thing I owned and the most expensive
gift that anyone ever gave me. I guess I'll never own another
Martin ever again.
$1350 bucks, it'll pay off my tuition and secure another
semester of Bible school. sigh - what a costly education!
My first guitar, the beat up old Seagull I bought when I was
17 is now the possession of someone else when I gave it away
for the new one.
It's good sometimes to give up our material possessions
every now and then. Good for the soul and provides a sense
of identification with the rich young ruler who was commanded
to sell all his possessions, give to the poor and follow Jesus.
One thing I noticed about that guitar, something very peculirar.
I never seemed to really feel oneness with it, like it was never
meant to be mine. I could never appreciate it, and didn't play
it as much as you would have expected. She was out of my league
I suppose - tagged along with me for a short while but could
never actually be mine forever. I was just too boring, sporting
a pathetic repertoire of open chords and same old strumming
patterns.
I was so careful with her, never
strumming too hard lest I scar the wood (I've since lost some of my
strumming speed because of that too!).
I would never have been able to take her to the mission field
either. She couldn't endure the harsh conditions like the Seagull
could. That guitar went with me on a dozen mission trips in
5 different countries - i still see her every now and then
she's with a good owner now, many more adventures yet to come
Oh, the memories.
I think I'll go in search for a cheaper, more humble instrument
this time. Something I won't fear will get damaged or scratched.
A guitar that doesn't have a problem begin soaked with blood,
sweat and tears as it resonates its scratchy tones before
the throne of God.
Perhaps in some ways owning an expensive guitar for a year
made me understand how instruments and music can possess
the ability to lure you away from the unheard sounds of
heartfelt passion - the worship that is in worship and truth:
the only worship that God can hear. I became proud of owning
the most valuable guitar in school, and got caught up with
its tone quality, at time even silencing my singing
to focus more on the warm resonance. How pathetic! It's not
as if I can actually tell the difference in tone or resonance.
God, if I become a deaf and mute quadriplegic, I will still
give you all my worship and i will give you all my praise. For you
alone I long to worship, you alone are worthy of my praise.
It was the most valuable thing I owned and the most expensive
gift that anyone ever gave me. I guess I'll never own another
Martin ever again.
$1350 bucks, it'll pay off my tuition and secure another
semester of Bible school. sigh - what a costly education!
My first guitar, the beat up old Seagull I bought when I was
17 is now the possession of someone else when I gave it away
for the new one.
It's good sometimes to give up our material possessions
every now and then. Good for the soul and provides a sense
of identification with the rich young ruler who was commanded
to sell all his possessions, give to the poor and follow Jesus.
One thing I noticed about that guitar, something very peculirar.
I never seemed to really feel oneness with it, like it was never
meant to be mine. I could never appreciate it, and didn't play
it as much as you would have expected. She was out of my league
I suppose - tagged along with me for a short while but could
never actually be mine forever. I was just too boring, sporting
a pathetic repertoire of open chords and same old strumming
patterns.
I was so careful with her, never
strumming too hard lest I scar the wood (I've since lost some of my
strumming speed because of that too!).
I would never have been able to take her to the mission field
either. She couldn't endure the harsh conditions like the Seagull
could. That guitar went with me on a dozen mission trips in
5 different countries - i still see her every now and then
she's with a good owner now, many more adventures yet to come
Oh, the memories.
I think I'll go in search for a cheaper, more humble instrument
this time. Something I won't fear will get damaged or scratched.
A guitar that doesn't have a problem begin soaked with blood,
sweat and tears as it resonates its scratchy tones before
the throne of God.
Perhaps in some ways owning an expensive guitar for a year
made me understand how instruments and music can possess
the ability to lure you away from the unheard sounds of
heartfelt passion - the worship that is in worship and truth:
the only worship that God can hear. I became proud of owning
the most valuable guitar in school, and got caught up with
its tone quality, at time even silencing my singing
to focus more on the warm resonance. How pathetic! It's not
as if I can actually tell the difference in tone or resonance.
God, if I become a deaf and mute quadriplegic, I will still
give you all my worship and i will give you all my praise. For you
alone I long to worship, you alone are worthy of my praise.
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