Keep a Song in your Heart

So, usually, when I'm in a good, chipper mood, I will usually say to those I am fond of (and those who I have just met) to "Keep a Story in your heart". I really have no idea where in the world I picked that phrase up, but it sounds like something some guy like me would say to someone like you who is currently reading this anecdote. There was never any reasoning behind it, at least until a couple of years ago when I became enthralled with Barth's narrative, post-liberal theology, which focuses deeply upon the narrative value of the Bible, so now I have at least some excuse to tell people to "Keep a Story in their heart."

As for me, I love stories. I love Greek mythology and epic prose, the Chinese saga "Journey to the West; the story of Monkey", and other great writers such as Russia's short story genius Anton Chekhov, the creative and thoughful musing of writers such as C.S. Lewis, William Barclay, and Jake Eppinga, and who can beat a good campfire story as told by a good friend? Stories make this world go around, they are passed on from generation to generation by word of mouth, by dog-earred pages and covers, and even in the horribly addicting habit called facebook-chat. It is through stories that we become attatched, mere figures and charecters suddenly become real. A person other than ourselves suddenly becomes merged with ourselves; so much so that we move from individuality to sympathy to complete empathy. What an amazing gift the story is! After all, isn't that what our lives are.

Well, how about songs? Yeah, music. I love music. A lot of it. Everything from the folksy sounds of Iron and Wine and Good Old War to the energy-filled banter of Bayside and The Films to the melodic guitars of The Fall of Troy and Between the Buried and Me to the classic (and irreplacable) sound of LA's own Jim Morrison and The Doors (gotta love The Doors!!!) So, you'd think that this week's assignment, leading worship at Grace Community, would be right up my alley. WRONG! Here's the thing about music, I like to sing, love the play guitar, and all that. But, I'm not the preforming type. I'll talk to hundreds buck-naked without a problem, but when it comes to pulling out the ol' gui-tar and harmonica five or six people scare the bejeebes out of me.

Not just preforming. Leading. Both morning services. No Cliff (our music director) as he is gone. Just me, a bunch of other people playing along, and a whole bunch of people on the other end of the sanctuary.

help

Here's the great thing about a heavenly Father. I stink. I really stink. I can screw up quite easily. Just ask Hana; after going out together for a delightful dinner with my host family we walked back to my car in the dark, full and happy. Sadly, what seemeda very simple drive off the island in the light was a much more difficult drive back onto the island. To make it short, I suck driving in the dark...like an old man wearing sunglasses. Needlesstosay, I am very blessed that she can stand a little adventure in her life, because an hour later we finally found 278 towards Hilton Head.

So, I stink. I am not always 100%...actually, closer to around 5%, maybe 5.8% on a good day. I am a few eggs short of a basket, a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and about 28 grand short of a college education.

But God isn't. Enough said. I come up short often. I've got a hot cup of coffee for 2.78$ and I'm 95 cents short, a 8.75$ movie ticket and I'm in need of an Honest Abe, a new home is a wad of cash but all I'm coming up with is whatever I find under the sofa and between my car seats. Yet, in spite of my inability to make it on my own, he provides. Maybe not that extra 95 cents when we want it, but more than just change for a caffine buzz. No matter the mess I get in, and no matter how deep the debt of my sin I occur, he never ceases to, like a parent with a checkbook, write away my multitude of mistakes and leaves me debt free.

Me. Blake Jurgens. Lost in South Carolina in the dark Blake Jurgens.

So, here I am. Huge task, huge responsibility, and no experiance. What kind of grace has come my way this week? The sweetest. Grace that kicks like an energy drink. Grace that goes from zilch to 60 in under 3 seconds, Grace that sets water on fire.

Two things; First...give worship leaders slack (Tracie and Pooh-Bear...if you read this, I respect you guys SO much...well, at least you Tracie...that was a joke, of course I respect you Nick) honestly guys and gals, it's a real whollup of work. I've learned how to use more software in the past 48 hours than I ever cared to learn about, and to think that God uses silly people like myself to master programs like those to put together our Sunday worship, it blows me away. It is more than plucking at ivorys Sunday morning and picking a couple songs; it involves planning and deep thinking and prayer and a couple dozen sofeware items.

Second; what a priviledge to be serving His kingdom in worship! For the first few hours of this entire process semi-bitter thoughts rambled through my head, after all, I didn't want to be this guy. But, the deeper I've gone, the more I grow to enjoy it, and the more I respect those who do this every week. Amen to that! (my first southern Amen...typed of cource)

Concluding, may the music of Christ run through your veins. May you sing out of utter joy overflowing from every chasim of your being. May He bless you, take you in His arms, and, by grace, teach us to walk.

Oh yeah, Keep a story in your heart!

Love always.
Blake