As my guitar teacher was tuning my guitar the other night a strange noise caught his attention. "Did you drop a pick in here?" He asked, smiling. "Uh, not exactly." I said, smiling back. "It's a grape." I said. "A grape!" He said, laughing. "Well, technically, it's more of a petrified raisin now, I guess. My kids dropped it in there too long ago for me to remember, and it has been in there ever since." He just continued to chuckle and tell me about some cute stories of his 5 kids. After I left, I had to laugh, again, about the condition of this good ol' guitar of mine. I was so hesitant to even take the class, knowing that I probably had one of the oldest, most used, guitars in the bunch. My sweet father-in-law had loaned me this guitar a long time ago, when I vowed someday I would learn how to play it....then it just sat in my closet. The kids eventually found it, and you guessed, dropped a grape in it for fun. They would clank around on that thing all the time, and to tell you the truth, I didn't really care. I made sure they didn't destroy it, but I was not that protective of it.
Then, low and behold, years later, I find myself sitting in a guitar class, finding a new love for this grape-filled friend of mine. I found that I began to be very protective of it once I discovered I could produce beautiful sounds with it, and needless to say, the kids were no longer allowed to clank around on it. In a matter of weeks, it became special and important...it became what it was created for.
So, I am driving home, thinking about this new found love for this old piece of wood, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Since I have started lessons, I have dropped my pick in there at least three times, and was able to retrieve it quickly each time. But, do you know after all these years I have yet to get that silly grape out, much less even see it! It's still the same old guitar it was, I have just found a new love for it because I put the effort into finding its potential. The minute I thought about this I realized that this is like Christ...and I am like the grape-filled guitar. There was no possible way for me to ever know my potential unless He picked me up and played my song...the one He wrote just for me. And ,yes, I sometimes hear that petrified grape of my old self clanking around, but instead of making me sad and useless, it makes me grateful and motivated. I love this old guitar, and all the character that comes with it. I was right, it is different than any other guitar in my class...it has a story...a testimony you might say. And every time I pick it up to worship (with the one song I know), I smile because I think of Him, His grace, and His song for me.
Uncle Shane
