Yesterday morning I intended to serenade my junior high girls' Sunday School class with my miserable excuse of chording talent. I've practiced two or three songs all summer until I felt fairly confident I could accompany the girls' singing. Nothing to terrifying: Amazing Grace, I'll Say Yes, Lord, Yes, and I Want to Do Thy Will--you know, songs we've sung as a class for months.
So I arrived to church early, slipped out of orchestra as soon as I could, & snuck into the classroom to tune my guitar. Yes, I slunk through the church building--I'm not that confident in my music abilities. If I was going to make a fool of my self, it was only going to be in front of the 8-10 girls in my class.
I sat in a chair in the corner of the classroom hunched over my guitar. The only light in the room was the glow my smartphone cast on my face as I used my G string tuning app. Pitiful, I know, but sometimes I can be extremely vain.
For twenty minutes I struggled to tune my guitar. Twenty minutes. It's okay, you can laugh. And, yes, I've tuned a guitar before--it has never taken me above 2 minutes. I felt like an idiot.
My D string made painful twangs as I stretched it to its limit. Each time I turned my tuning knob I whispered, "Lord, please don't let this break." It didn't. My G string did. My heart stopped for a full three seconds as I stared blankly at the third string laying limp against my guitar. I was so frustrated I did something I rarely do: I cried.
My mother graciously helped me sneak my guitar out to the car [yes, I am that vain; yes, my mom is that awesome; & yes, it is hard to "sneak" a guitar anywhere] & rebuked my ridiculous attitude. I was frustrated &I was not trying to hide it.
What did she say?
"Obviously this wasn't the Lord's plan for you today. Ask Him what His plan is."
OUCH. Talk about a major slap in the face.
Twenty minutes later, I sat in the same room, with the lights on, encircled by seven junior high ladies. What did we talk about? God's will for our lives. What illustration did I use? Broken guitar strings.
God allowed my guitar string to break so I could learn what His will was for me that day.
But the lesson doesn't stop there. God was still working on me.
Midway through his morning message, God's Plan for Lasting Change, Pastor Kevin walked over the the piano & droned one key repeatedly. His illustration? Tuning a piano. As I sat there in my family's regular pew three quarters of the way back on the left side of the auditorium, a wave regret & insight struck me: broken guitar strings.
There are areas in my life that need to change & I've been trying to fine-tune them on my own. I've stretched myself to my limit. Before I know it a loud twang stops my heart & I sit dumb-founded at my own foolishness.
Goodness knows when I try to change on my own I will only end up with broken guitar strings.I need the Lord to tune the chords of my heart so I can appropriately praise His name.
