F#m TEACHES A LESSON ABOUT GOD

Yesterday I attended a worship workshop and posted a report about it. After the workshop, I returned home and looked over the list of fourteen songs we practiced together as a group. Then I attempted to learn one of those pesty bar chords that I have been avoiding for the past thirty-eight years or so since I first picked up a guitar.

The bar chord I needed to learn was F#m. I needed to learn that chord in order to play the song, "Mighty To Save". That particular song contains four guitar chords: D, A, E and F#m. I already knew the first three chords. Easy. The fourth one would be a tough one. But I tried. And I tried again. And I got frustrated. I got frustrated to the point where I put down my guitar and took a break at the computer.

I noticed that someone had left a comment on my newly posted item about the worship workshop. I clicked "1 comments" at the end of the posting to see who left this comment. It was Belinda. She left a very thoughtful and encouraging reply. This is what she wrote:

I am going to write this quote down and stick it on my wall 'I am learning a technical skill with spiritual help for a spiritual effect'. BEAUTIFUL. That quote will be such an encouragement to missionaries struggling to learn a new language!

As I read Belinda's words, I thought to myself, "Uh-oh. I just told the whole planet via the world wide web that I needed spiritual help and that I will be praying and asking God to help me learn these new chords. Instead, I'm stressing over these chords and, to be honest, I flat out forgot to ask God for help."

After chastising myself, I paused, I asked God to help me attain this new level of skill, I picked up my guitar again and I began playing, or trying to play, "Mighty To Save".

The help was there.

The transitions between chords are still awkward, but I can play the chord and I am improving.

I am a self-admitted "forget-to-pray" guy. I know the Bible exhorts us to pray. I know God responds to the petitions of his people. I know I have personal access to come boldly before the throne of grace.

But I just forget.

I'll be working on this one.

"Mighty To Save" is just one of many great songs we were given in our workshop yesterday. I took notes on F#m, but got frustrated when I got home. Then I remembered to pray.

In addition to taking notes, the Internet has tons of websites with chord charts. I found one showing F#m and the picture confirmed that my notes showed how to play the chord correctly.

I've never really tried stretching my fingers this far to reach a chord, and up until now I've never attempted to learn bar chords, but F#m is now coming to me.

WORSHIP WORKSHOP

Last weekend at church, the bulletin contained an announcement that initially did not interest me but, moments later, somehow challenged me. One of our worship leaders was going to hold a "Worship Workshop" the following Saturday for anyone interested in learning the worship songs currently used during our services.

I have known a few basic guitar chords for a lot of years, but have always avoided playing songs with difficult chords. Many of these difficult chords are "bar chords" which require pressing down on all six guitar strings with the index finger of the left hand. I have tried playing some of these chords in the past but it has always been too painful. It has always felt like six dull knife blades trying to cut into my finger. Consequently, I just never attempted to learn any of these hard chords.

But just last month my brother, Dean, noticed that the neck of my guitar was slightly--almost undetectably--bowed. He repaired it. He straightened the neck so that now I can press all six strings with minimal, painless effort.

So, this morning I attended the workshop. About twenty-five others attended as well. We heard a brief lesson about the heart of worship, which was both instructive and edifying, then we started playing the songs which were distributed among the group. Some of the chords I had never seen before. As those chords were shown to us, I must confess that I really did not learn them. I knew that I would need to go home and find them on a chord chart and practice them on my own.

I am stretching myself. I am putting forth the effort to learn something difficult, something I have been unwilling to learn until now. I am committed to keep on practicing until I get it.

There are two elements to this challenge: a technical element and a spiritual element. I must learn a technical skill with spiritual help for the purpose of producing a spiritual effect. So, I am praying and asking God to help me learn these chords so I can serve Him in a new way, exalting Him in worship.

I took my first guitar lesson when I was 20 years old and still have the original mimeographed song sheets that the instructor handed out. Among the first songs I learned were "Blowin' in the Wind", "This Land is Your Land," and "Sweet Betsy From Pike".

When I was 31 years old, I played guitar on the front step of our house on White Lane in Crescent City. That was when I had hair growing on the top of my head and on my face and before I had hair growing out of my ears and out of my nostrils.

I have occasionally played for our church group, but only songs with easy guitar chords.

My brother, Dean, straightened the neck on my guitar so I can now learn to play some bar chords.

Tony taught the worship workshop today and had no idea that one of the attendees brought a small, concealed camera along with a guitar.

AN EXPERIMENT IN MINISTRY

or

RETHINKING YOUR SPIRITUAL GIFT

or

MINISTERING ACCORDING TO THEIR NEED RATHER THAN YOUR GIFT

or

IT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER WHAT YOUR SPIRITUAL GIFT IS



I’ve been doing quite a bit of pondering lately. Pondering about how I should pursue ministering in our church.

Over the years, I have heard dozens of lessons and sermons on “How to Determine Your Spiritual Gift”. I’ve been fairly confident that I have correctly identified my particular gift. But I could be wrong.

I have always enjoyed teaching, so I’ve typically pursued teaching ministries in the various churches I’ve attended, usually teaching adults, rarely teaching children. That is where I have long believed I’ve been given my spiritual gifting.

Or has teaching actually been a natural gift for me instead of a spiritual gift? After all, I did enjoy teaching long before I ever came into the fold.

Anyway, I have spent nearly four decades working on this assumption that God has gifted me to teach His Word, specifically to grown-ups. While in college, my friend Bill and I drove from Sacramento to Stockton each Sunday to teach a small, struggling missionary church. After Bill moved on to other things, I stuck it out for another couple of years before moving on to other things myself.

Bill and I sit in front of the church at the beginning of the service.

Bill remains seated as I step to the pulpit.

I taught a Bible class at a college retreat one year at a Christian Conference center. I taught a college Sunday School class in Galt. I frequently preached on Sunday evenings for a couple of years in Fort Dick.

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I taught an adult Sunday School class for several years in Brookings. I taught a weeknight Bible study for single parents in San Jose. I taught a singles Bible study in Medford before marrying Debra.

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After we got married, Debra and I led a study group for married couples who were seeking to build and strengthen their marriages around the Word.

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I have not taught for about two years now, except on a couple of occasions when I’ve been asked to share a devotional for the over-fifties group that Debra and I attend.

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But I have pondered.

Debra and I have considered and discussed having a Bible study in our home but, frankly, my heart just hasn’t been into it. Maybe it’s because our church hasn’t expressed a need for more home Bible studies. Maybe it’s because I get up very early for work and need to get to bed too early to be staying up for a Bible study in our home. Maybe it’s because it’s time for me to serve where the need already exists, regardless of my perceived spiritual gift or my personal preferences.

The current need in our church, often announced during services, is for people to work with the children. But I’ve only taught adults. I don’t teach kids. I’m not good at it.

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Or am I?

I do all right at reading stories to my grandchildren and playing with them. So, my pondering has led me to think something like this: Maybe I should give this children’s church thing a try.

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So, next month I will begin ministering in a totally new way for me. I will be venturing into foreign territory. I will be working with the four- and five-year-olds in our children’s church.

And the more I think about it, the more I’m looking forward to it.

Teaching the Bible to college students at a college retreat.

Sharing the Word barefooted along a river near Stockton during a baptismal service.

Our unbelieving next door neighbors asked if I would conduct a "christening service" for their baby. I had no idea what a christening service was, but I said "Yes" anyway and used the occasion to share the gospel to a roomful of their friends and relatives.

Our then family-of-four hovers around the piano at a church in Galt where Barbara played piano, I taught a college Sunday School class, and Bethany and Belinda continued their journey from being little girls to becoming the godly women they are today.

Last Thanksgiving, I mixed scripture with my testimony as I spoke to our over-fifty group.

The over-fifty group asked me to speak again just two months ago, this time adding some harmonica and guitar to my presentation.

I suppose if I can grasp my four-year-old grandson by the hand and take him to church, then I can certainly invest myself into the lives of other four-year-olds who need to learn about Jesus.

JUST THE TWO OF US (DAY 4)

The final day of our relaxation-getaway-road-trip-tour took us 250 feet below the earth's surface into 44-degree cave air. We hiked an equivalent of ten flights of stairs to complete the 90-minute experience.

After leaving the cave, we caught our breath, descended the mountain from the cave exit, opened the doors to my pickup, stepped inside, sat down, buckled up and drove home.

The entrance to the cave.

Our tour guide shares some facts about the cave.

Exploring the cave.

The exit from the cave.

The trail leading down the mountain from the cave exit to the parking lot below.

As we descended the trail from the cave exit to the parking lot, we could see my little white pickup through the forest. Once we reached the pickup, we got in and drove home.

JUST THE TWO OF US (DAY 3)

We walked from our room to the bridge after we woke up on Tuesday morning. That brief uphill walk sparked our appetite, so we feasted on a pancake breakfast at the Indian Creek Cafe before continuing our trip toward the Port of Brookings-Harbor, followed by a hike through the redwood forest at Stout Grove, and finally ending at our ultimate destination for the day: The Oregon Caves.

The bridge crossing the Rogue River in Gold Beach.

Combing the beach in Brookings, with the South Jetty shown in the background.


We entered Stout Grove from the Crescent City side (Hwy 101 to Elk Valley Crossroad to Howland Hill) and exited toward the Highway 199 side leading to Cave Junction.

Two little people surrounded by a bunch of great big redwoods.

Waving from a distance.

Midway through our hike at Stout Grove, we paused along the crystal clear Smith River.

A path cut through a fallen redwood.

The workout I received on this hike was enhanced by the distance I had to sprint from my camera to my wife after setting the ten-second time delay so I could jump into some of these pictures with her.

Contrast in sizes.

We left Stout Grove, drove an hour or two, and ended up at Oregon Caves.

The Chateau at Oregon Caves is a six-story structure spanning a gorge. Our room was on the top level, slightly to the right of center with two small windows overlooking the cave entrance and the brook that runs through the gorge.

Yeah, that's our room!

That one, right there. Top, center.

From our room, we could see the entrance to the cave (top right), the waterfall and brook across the road (center), and the continuation of the brook on our side of the road (bottom left). The brook filled a pond below us and provided a pleasant sound that lulled us to sleep. Click photo to enlarge.

In our room, Debra checks her email.

Before dining in the Chateau, we relaxed in the Chateau lobby and played a game of checkers. The lobby contains the largest fireplace in Oregon and possibly on the west coast. After dinner we collapsed and passed out in our room, getting some rest for the ninety-minute tour through the cave the following morning.

JUST THE TWO OF US (DAY 2)

Monday morning we arose after about ten hours of sleep, checked out of the motel, and began our hike through Old Town Bandon. We enjoyed a hearty breakfast at a popular restaurant, shopped and browsed for a couple of hours, drove to Shore Acres, then finished the day at the Port of Gold Beach.

The Minute Cafe in Old Town Bandon serves great omelets.

After breakfast, we walked on the dock among the seagulls.

The shops in Old Town Bandon occupied most of our morning.

Just two of us in a two-passenger pickup with two suitcases strapped in place using two bungee cords.

In the parking lot of Shore Acres.

Getting ready to enter the garden at Shore Acres.

Enjoying the beautiful landscape.

Yellowius Reddius Polkus Dottius.

Pretty face framed by pretty flowers.

Wandering through the garden.

Purpulius Fotogeniticius.

Trofius Wyfus.

String of color behind the hedge.

Birds in the lily pond.

Monkey Puzzle Tree.

Bench warmers.

Crossing the garden bridge.

Overlooking Simpson Beach.

Watching the sea lions at Simpson Reef.

Ending the day at Jot's Resort in Gold Beach. The bridge behind us spans the Rogue River at the Port of Gold Beach. The bridge was built in 1932 and, ironically, is 1932 feet long.