Sunday, May 11, 2014

Worship Service - 05/11/2014 - Harvest Fellowship

Here's what I learned in church today, just from the worship service, the music part. I'm borrowing some of what was said and adding my own feelings from it, but it was a really moving time and I just wanted to share.

Psalm 46

(NIV) 10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

(AMP) 10 "Let be and be still, and know (recognize and understand) that I am God. 
I will be exalted among the nations! 
I will be exalted in the earth!"

Being still could mean many things. To me, it means to be "in the present." To be in the moment. To live in the here and now.

You could live in shame and regret, but then you'd be living in the past. That's not what He said. He said to be "be still". Be here. Don't "be still" as in hold your breath and don't move.

You could live with all your worry and anxiety. But then you'd be living in the future. You're playing a movie in your head of what you think will happen. Whether it does or not, you're not being still. You're headed off down the road not looking where you're going.

Know that He is God. Recognize and understand what that means. He is in control. We're not. So let's take care of now and give up our sorrows and mistakes to Him. Let's look around and see what we can take care of now and not give in to the overwhelming feeling of worry.

I give myself to Him. Right here. Right now. And I give up the past and future to Him. I will be here, still, for His glory.

Monday, April 28, 2014

Danny's Story - Part One

This is an exercise in writing. I've been told, and overheard, time and time again that the only way to get better at writing is to just...write. Anything. Then, do it again. Like Hank Moody once said, "All right, so at the end of the day if you could do anything else, telemarketing, pharmaceutical sales, or ditch digging, major league umpire…I would suggest that you do that because being a writer blows. It's like having homework every day for the rest of your life."


Eighty three dollars and seventy four cents. That's how much money Danny held tightly bundled in his pocket as he left the house. He'd spent the last three months mowing lawns throughout the neighborhood, minus some occasional Big Gulp and jalapeno hot dog money, saving up his earnings. It was finally time. He walked down the street in his worn Nike knock-offs, Rustler jeans and a plain, worn t-shirt with the richest smile inside his swelling chest. Danny knew exactly what he wanted. And he was walking faster than usual toward the pawn shop. 

The pawn shop was like walking in to a wonderland of sorts. A heaven for the imagination of a young thirteen year old boy. The Chinese stars and butterfly knives took him to his desires to grow up and be a Ninja. The Atari and Nintendo consoles and games made him drool over the thoughts of being a sponsored video game champion. All attainable goals in his youthful, yet ambitious mind. Then there was the array of handguns, rifles and shotguns that made his heartbeat quicken slightly as he stared and slowly scanned over them. It wasn't the revolvers that interested him. The semi-auto handguns, the 9MMs, were the most intriguing. 

None of these things held the prize of his attention for the rest of the visit though. It was the walls. The most beautifully decorated walls. Lined with one after another. Every shape, size, color, style, and personality. He could almost smell the wood and plastic, if it weren't for the other odd, musty smells of the pawn shop. The brilliance of each creation was individually inspiring. He wanted to hold them all. To touch them and run his hands down their bodies and feel the tautness of the strings beneath his fingers, listening to the slight sounds coming from his touches... he was in awe. 

A short, scruffy man with sweat stains coming from the armpits of his t-shirt sauntered over to the boy, "Is there something you'd like to look at?" he asked Danny.

Danny didn't take his eyes from the prize. It was black. It was acoustic. It was a simple Yamaha. But he could see the price tag hanging from the neck and knew he had enough. It was fate. Soon they would be one. Ringing came from his ears and his cheeks flushed as he slowly breathed and stared at his new love. Danny was truly experiencing love at first sight.

Danny looked at the pawn shop man, "I'll take it."

The man started to go on a sales pitch about a dreadnought shape and sound and the F335's tonewood combination including a laminate spruce top, rosewood fingerboard and bridge and meranti back and sides. He even mentioned the gold diecast tuners and how they provided smooth and accurate tuning.

Danny didn't care and didn't know half of what the man was talking about. He just stared at it up on the wall and pulled the money from his pocket.