maybe the worst

I've had a long term relationship with God.
It's been up and down.
At times we have been very close; it's hard to explain. I get along with Him and He lovingly leads and guides and assures me.
Other times have been different. I wouldn't say I questioned His existence, or doubted my faith. But there have been stretches of time that I felt alone. It's sort of like when I'm in the living room and Jan is in the bedroom and it seems as though we're miles apart. I never question whether Jan's in there or not; I just feel alone.
One of the ways I've sensed a closeness to God is the way He speaks to my conscience.
One such conversation with God occurred a few times over the years after I graduated from high school.
You see, I used to have a sharp tongue and a critical spirit. I used to be a real smart aleck. I could say very mean things about someone and think I was being funny.
There was a girl in high school that had a peculiarly shpaed nose.
I nick-named her "Hookie."
I didn't really know her; she seemed quiet. My friends and I would tease each other about her. You know, "...are you going out wth Hookie...?" type stuff.
At one point it deteriorated into my pestering a guy I didn't like about liking her.
I remember it coming to a point where a fight almost ensued after a bus ride with the school band.
Anyway...
After I got out of high school I eventually matured (a little).
Then I began to see this type of behavior in teens and adults.
It was hideous and it offended my spirit.
And God invaded my conscience.
"Hey, Don, remember Hookie?" He would say.
It happened several times over a number of years.
Each time I would pray for the ones doing the bugging. I would pray for the ones being bugged. And I would pray and ask God to forgive me. Then I would pray for "Hookie."
It's been a long time since I've felt an urge to pray for her and I believe God has more than forgiven me.
I wonder, though, what kind of irreparable damage I have done with my mouth.
I wihs I could say that I've got good control over my tongue, but that would be a lie.
I still make comments I regret. I still smart off once in a while. I still have a God who says, "What'd you just say?" and reminds me to make quick repairs when He nudges me.
"Hookie" had a name. It was Vickie. I hope that God sent someone to her in her life that valued that name and loved her enough to whisper it sweetly and kindly many times in her ears.
God does that sort of thing. I know. He gave me a lovely girl that doesn't mind being a "Pew."
For whatever it's worth, "Sorry, Vickie."
I'm trying not to waste my breathe being critical any more.
I suggest you don't, either.
"We all make many mistakes, but those who control their tongues can also control themselves in every other way. We can make a large horse turn around and go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. And a tiny rudder makes a huge ship turn around wherever the pilot wants it to go, even though the winds are strong. So, also the tongue is a small thing, but what enormous damage it can do. A tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. And the tongue is a flame of fire. It is full of wickedness that can ruin your whole life. It can turn the entire course of your life into a blazing flame of destruction, for it is set on fire by hell itself." James 3:2-6 (NLT)

First Chair

When I was there from 1969-1971, Cody High School had a gifted band director, Mr. Joseph Poniatowski (sp?). He demanded the best from everyone, even those who were marginally talented. Sometimes it was difficult, painful even, to sit through an intense pre-concert practice. It was worth it. We played our hearts out and Mr. P directed with a passion suitable for the best orchestra in the world.
I learned some valuable lessons in band.
For one thing, I have come to realize the importance of practice. Though not without exception, it is true that what you do in practice is what you will do in preformance. If you want to play sports or perform in public, you must practice. And practice seriously.
Another lesson is that some poeple are more talented than others. Maybe success is 90% perspiration and 10% inspiration. But talent is a gift and not everyone is equally gifted or talented. So what? Do your best. Try. Work. Even if you're not particularly good at what you enjoy to do. Last night my oldest son and my future son-in-law played their first indoor soccer game for a company team in a summer league. They got shellacked. It was 30 somethings versus 19 year olds. Who's got the energy of a nineteen year old? Other 19 year olds! That may not be talent, but the point is the same. My son and son-in-law can still do their best and have fun (to a point), can't they?
One other lesson came on a day I can remember vividly. At least one moment I remember. I was in the band office and Mr. P told me to wind up a microphone cord (it may have been an extrension cord). As I started to do what he asked, he scolded me for not doing it the way he wanted. See, cords like that have to be twisted a little as they're wound up or they'll be a mess. I didn't know that. Mr. P assumed that I would. He didn't stop and teach me. He just grabbed the cord and did it himself. I can still remember the feeling of smallness and embarrassment of that moment. I think I've taken the time in my life to stop and teach rather than yell and grab. At least most of the time.
Don't get me wrong.
I should have learned more. Sometime soon, I'll tell you about the worst thing I ever did in high school.
In the mean time, practice-have fun-be patient.

"A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, be able to teach, and be patient with difficult people. Gently instruct those who oppose the truth. Perhaps God will change those people’s hearts, and they will learn the truth."
2 Ti 2:24-25 NLT