A thought, concretewords : 'The Instrument'

The instrument


I remember it well, 40 years ago and more. Sandals, short socks, shorts, long thin legs. Thick brown hair in a pony tail. The annual ritual as soon as we arrive. Jumping out of the car. Running to promenade to look. Little brother trailing behind shouting because he can't keep up and I won't wait. 

It's not there yet. Oh.

Trekking back up the cliff to our holiday flat. Running down again. Traipsing back up. Running down. Dancing back. The poster has gone up at last. They're here ! 

Each summer my family went to Cromer, a decaying English seaside town. I didn't understand that the paint was peeling till I was older. We loved the place like you love your pet, regardless. My Dad played tennis and we went to the CSSM. 

All weathers, I was there.  Damp from the sand seeping through the seat of my slacks. North Sea wind down the neck of my anorak. I never cared. I was enthralled. I loved every single minute. From the Bible study groups in the morning, to the Beach Special service and games in the afternoon I drank it all in. Always last to leave. Often too timid to chat, but unable to tear myself away.  

I didn't go to Sunday School. Well, my friend Wendy had invited me to hers in the parish church, but my Mum and Dad didn't go there so I thought I wouldn't be allowed. I made up for it one marvelous week each year on the beach. I loved the songs. I wrote down the words in a notebook when I got home. 

"Wide, wide as the ocean, high as the heavens above, 
Deep, deep as the deepest sea is my saviour's love."

I dreamed, well no, I was too shy, I hardly dared even dream it, but in my heart of hearts I longed to be with those musicians strumming away so everyone could join in. It was nearly an ache.

*****

For my 14th birthday I asked for a guitar.

I sat on the edge of my bed for hours on end trying and trying the chords in the manual till my fingers gradually gained the leather hard tips which make the strings bite less.

"I, though so unworthy,
Still am a child of his care"

The next year on holiday I took my guitar and my book of choruses...

... and said nothing.

And the following year. And the next.

What went on in that intervening time is another story which I hope I will get to tell you one day. Suffice it to say I met with Jesus in a new way and finally joined the team. I saw God at work, made friends, learned things, had fun, met kids, and even met my husband. And I got my heart's desire. Year after year battling north east wind, sea gulls, high tide, tractors, bin lorries, helicopter, come rain and shine I accompanied the songs. Every guitar I had finished up with sand in it. Of course then I couldn't just stop at beach missions !

All told I led worship for nearly 30 years in many ways, in many places. Never wearied of it.

*****

Nowadays the guitar is stowed away. It's been there for nearly 10 years. I struggle to hold the strings down. I've more or less lost my voice. The song books are lined up on the bookshelf, yellowed and worn. Songs left half written, untried, in the file.

But the deep urge burns on. It had got under my skin before I was even aware of what worship was. 8 year old, 9 year old, 10, 11, 12, praying along with the special prayer, year after year. No follow up, no teaching, no understanding. Not yet. Just a gut certainty. And even now it goes on. A smouldering passion. Full of questions yet as certain as it ever has been. 

Not withered by age or crushed by life.
Bigger than the instruments. 
Broader than the songs. 
Deeper than the services

It keeps my heart beating. 
It keeps me marching. 
It keeps me praising God regardless of what's going on. 

"For His word teaches me
That his love reaches me
EVERYWHERE"

*****

PS  I wrote this comment on someone's blog and felt like adding it here :-

"I would have thought it trite to say this in the past, but it really is about worshiping God in the end. You may not be able to play the flute but you’re carrying on giving praise to God with your blog – I’m sure it’s in the psalms – “praise him on the trumpet the psaltery and blog”. Me too. Whether I can ever play my instrument again or not I’m not going to let it stop me praising Jesus."

*****
 
Have guitar, will travel

Indoors, outdoors, church, Town Hall, 
Nightclub, school and shopping mall. 
Mid Atlantic, mountain peak, 
Forest glade, car park, beach.

Solo voice or with a band,
Every Sunday, one night stand.
For a thousand, for a few, 
New plastic chairs, old wooden pew.

Praise the Lord ! and Glory Be !
Simple awestruck bended knee.
Any method, any time, 
Any place and any rhyme.

Thank you Jesus, I'm so glad,
Thank you for the fun I've had,
Thank you for the joy and tears,
You've been faithful all these years. 

(Have had such fun writing this ditty. Thinking of so many memories. Even the hard ones, God worked anyway.)