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War Drums: Part 33 of the Drummer's Almanac

I decided to bring back the drummer's almanac as a departure from my normal blog entries. I need to vent about my technique every now and then. And I like to think about all the different facets of drumming.

This morning was interesting to say the least. The first service is always a little dry and it seems that all of the charis-whackos are in the second service, which makes for more energy, dancing and whooping.

We started off rough with the first song and I couldn't seem to get into the groove. By the third song, I was playing a nice ride part with my eyes closed. The stick was bouncing nicely and I was really getting into it, when the stick rebounded out of my hand, fell onto a congalita, smacking the head two times, and clinking all the way to the floor by my foot. I had to stop playing totally as I picked up the stick, laughing and trying to look unembarassed.

The second service was a different story, entirely. You can't mistake when the whole team comes together and the presence of the Lord is working on you. I was in the pocket and certain people were woohooing which fed into my energy. I really wanted to break into a war beat of proclamation. It seemed very appropriate, but as we went along, Chris followed the Holy Spirit and led very well.

I was able to partake in a worship setting once, where two drummers were playing together on the worship team. They had djembes for anyone to play, so I picked one up and followed the team. A woman named Jen eventually called me over and several people playing drums just led and beat in spiritual warfare. It was exciting, even though I didn't fully understand it. I still don't. I don't know if there is scripture on this, but I believe music is powerful. I know God wants us to play music and he has called us to play it for and to Him.

I'm going to be on the lookout for a story or verse on beating drums in spiritual warfare.

Not Big Enough!

On Monday I went to a memorial service for a friend of the family named Mike. I had been told about it on Friday, but forgot until my dad called me and told me how he died. He killed himself with a shotgun. Dad told me he didn't want my brother and I walking into that without knowing.

As I sat through the service, the preacher kept talking about salvation and how we are not to say Mike was without God. Mike had committied himself to the Lord when he was younger. He and his family went to a church where, later, I was baptized. It's weird how things come full circle.

Mike and his family used to live across the street from us in a trailer court. We knew each other since we could remember and played together. One day, Mike, his brother Ty, my brother Dana, and I were playing hide and go seek. I saw a canoe laying bottom up behind a shed and decided that would be a great hiding spot. Mike saw me and tried to help me get under the boat. He dropped the boat as I slid under and it hit me in the back of the head. I immediately went home feeling the back of my head and seeing blood on my hands. I got 6 stitches and still have a dent in my head.

When I was in high school, Mike got me drunk and we played drinking games. Good memories.

We drifted apart when they moved to North Lewisburgh. I would see them every now and then in Marysville, but it was years apart.

When the memorial service was over we met with the family at a banquet hall. We ate and Mike's mother made fun of me because I work in a correctional facility. She told my brother and me to go see Steve, Mike's dad. He couldn't come eat because he has diabetes. So we went to their house and saw Steve.

Steve hadn't changed. He was just the way I remember him which was comforting under the circumstances. Steve was telling stories as usual until his neices left. Then he told Dana and I the whole graphic story of how Mike killed himself. He told it with such serenity and peacefulness that it was horrific. As he told the story, I kept wringing my hands. I almost felt like I was going to pass out or throw up. I couldn't drown out Stave's voice with my own thoughts. All I could do was visualize it in every detail.

Afterward, Dana and I talked and we both said we wanted to stop Steve, but felt like we couldn't. I was distraught and wanted to cry. Casey, said I was white as a ghost when I got home. The images are still swirling around my head a week later.

This is a situation that had a profound affect on my faith. I don't know what is happening to Mike's soul. It's not for me to decide. He was alive after he shot the gun. How do I know he didn't call upon God afterward. He could hear his father and squezzed his hand three times. Maybe he was talking with God before he passed away.

As Christians we assume that we have it all figured out because we know what the bible says. I'm not so sure anymore. I still have my foundation of faith, but I am now rethinking certain aspects of what I thought to be truth. I don't think God wants us to condemn. We've done enough of that!

Besides Mike came to salvation a long time ago. Is there enough grace to cover this or is he condemned? I am not so quick to respond. I think I want to let God handle that one.

I am not big enough for it!

Interpretation

Below is a picture of my son's foot x-rays. He broke his foot jumping off of our bed.

I know the pic is blurry and you can't even see where the fracture is located. It's there. Right at his fourth appendage in his foot.

Looking at this pic reminds me of the book I'm reading. Rob Bell's "Velvet Elvis". The velvet paintings of Elvis are just interpretations of the "king" which leads to how we interpret who God is and how we should live out our faith in Him.

I had an interesting week and I had actually been thinking about this topic before I had a chance to crack the book. I witnessed something at work that made me sad, and it made me angry, and it made me feel disgusted at the Christian body. As my fellow staff members were discussing resident behaviors in the house, the nurse decided to bring up a resident that had been walking on crutches. She said, "one day he was walking on crutches and the next he was walking on his own, shooting basketball." Another staff member saw this as an opportunity to say, "He's healed. thank you, Jesus!" Of course, everyone laughed, but me.

I wasn't sad, angry, or disgusted with them as much as I was with the Christian body. I realized that they had such an interpretation of God that says He can't heal and that you will only see that on Benny Hinn. They think it's a ploy and made of fairy tales.

Rob Bell talks about how people base their faith on things they have been influenced by or taught.

I know that my faith has changed over the years. I started out thinking differently, trying to figure God out within a certain context. A frame imposed by my church at the time. Trying to believe in the God of the Bible based on doctrine that walled him off and hindered my growth. It was a good thing I was inquisitive and knew that I didn't believe everything they said to be truth. I had to seek on my own and in doing so, it lead me to more seeking until I found out God was in things I didn't think about before. He approaches things differently than I want him to or think He should just because it makes me comfortable. His ways are not my ways and I found out the more I ask, the more there is to learn.

Kind of like zooming in on my son's x-ray. The more I zoom in, the more fascinating and mysterious it becomes. It's not in focus, it's pixelated, and I have to interpret what I'm seeing.

As I learn to interpret where I am with Him I redefine my faith. Every time.

The velvet Elvis paintings you see on the sides of the highways are just interpretations of who Elvis is to that artist. Usually it's their favorite Elvis based on several incarnations Elvis took on throughout his life. Everyone has their favorite Elvis.

I hope that I don't define God as my favorite version, but as who I think He is based on my experiences with Him along with how I interpret the scriptures at that time. It's made me realize that I don't have the same definition for God as I used to.

It almost makes me think I have no clue, but just when I think he has left me alone.....

...there he is calling me, pushing me, loving me.

The Way Out Is The Way In

I just love Rush and their penchant for sarcastically piercing lyrics like the ones from "Secret Touch".

"The way out is the way in"

They hit today as I struggled getting up, again to the alarm clock, which has become a bane, yet a calling at this moment, to go to worship practice. As I traveled to town I realized how dreadful this morning would be because I would have to tell Greg I couldn't practice for Power Surge Teen Expo. I needed to be home with my wife and kids. So, I drudged along and tried to forget about it.

As the team started practicing and really just trying to worship, I realized I just needed to let everything go and focus solely on Him. What a blessing. It was like a vacation. That is, until the end of service when Greg approached me and asked if I could practice. Apologetically, I told him I couldn't and that I wouldn't be able to this whole week due to other commitments. Reluctantly, he asked if I wanted out. I saw my chance and I took it. I told him it had become too taxing for my family and me. So, I introduced him to Zack, as a replacement, and let it go. Praise God for correcting my mistake. I should have never agreed to it in the first place. Life goes on...

"You can never break the chain
There is never love without pain
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart"

So, now my family can know that daddy is home and wants to spend time with them. In case you didn't know, play time is a serious business!!! Dads ought not forget the importance of becoming a tree for the monkeys to hang on.

"A healing hand, a secret touch on the heart"

My load has been made lighter and I think I learned that God has been in control of when I can play music, so I don't lose sight of where He wants me and where I am needed. Hard lesson for a rocker at heart.

"There is never love without pain
Life is the power that remains"

Whew! It's Friday!

Well, I made it. I am off work early and I can relax for a short period of time while my wife and kids sleep. Then it's time to run some errands and do some yard work.


I usually enjoy yard work because I feel like I am exercising, and getting something accomplished. And it makes my home look good.


I am feeling like some of the stress is off of me for now as I wind down for the weekend. I say wind down, but we are actually going to have a busy weekend.


First, we are doing yardwork and housework, so we can enjoy the rest of the weekend. Second, we are going to the Dublin Irish Festival for some good music and various activities. It's very interesting and better than the fair. We make it a tradition to go with Jeremy and Christy. This year Gaelic Storm and Flogging Molly are playing, so it should make for a good time.


I don't know if there's a third, but I think we may end up seeing my brother. I just hope I get to see my boys. We haven't played together for a while and they need some daddy time. I know Casey needs the break.

So, now I'm going to go and play some free online games and try to detox before I have to work outside. For those of you who like free games, check out Dangerous Dave and Brutal Bob. It's a pretty funny game though shocking at first. Well.......I'm off. Saaaawwwiiiiiiiiing battah!

A God Idea?

I met my pastor, Steve, for lunch today at Fiesta Grande to just talk and spend time together. We have done this before and I always enjoy his company. He has become someone I really look up to, not because he's my pastor, but because he always has good solid, godly wisdom to share and encourages me to look in the right direction.

As we sat down, we talked about how this month is filling up fast with events and committments. And for some reason I just can't say, "no!" to people.

I am thankful that, as a drummer, I am being sought out for various gigs. I know God has blessed that gift immensely. But at what expense am I getting to use it. I am over doing it by saying, "sure, I'll be there." or "I'll do that." I am sacrificing a lot of home time with my family to be able to play music.

Steve said, "There are good ideas and God ideas. Not every good idea is a God idea."

I could only nod in agreement because I know it's the truth.

As some people know, Casey and I are struggling with money issues, lately. We have been relying on God and trusting that he will provide. He has in unforseen ways. But we are still hit in the mouth and need assistance. I asked Steve if we should ask for help or just let God provide. He said we should definitely ask God to make it clear on what to do.

See, the problem is not a pride issue with asking for help. It's about trying to let God have the opportunity to show His power or stepping on that and doing it ourselves or following His lead and asking for help from someone who can provide because He said.

This afternoon, God made it clear by showing us our bills are due tomorrow and we need money. So we asked for it. Even though I have pride issues about asking, I overcame and asked for what I needed.

God's ideas are definitiely good!