B-o-i-n-n-g!!

guitar

On the Sunday platform with the worship team, first song (no, it couldn’t even be the LAST song, had to be number one!), upbeat tempo in full gusto, and there goes a string!  As it starts flapping in the front of sound hole, I somehow manage to keep the beat and finish the song, after which I just wrap what’s left of the sting around the head stock, thankful that I somehow didn’t go horribly out of tune (maybe a little), and that I didn’t get slapped in the face with a thin piece of steel. 

This is not the first time I’ve popped a string during a set, and it’s really not a serious problem, especially since I play a twelve-string guitar.  Shoot, I still have eleven strings.  But then it hits me—this is exactly what the phrase “koinonia” is about. 

Koinonia is a word that has its origins in the ancient Christian community.  It indicates shared experience, which can be applied on several different levels.  It includes my participation and contribution to the whole.  I have a part to play, however small it may seem (at the time), and even if that contribution is not acknowledged by others, it is a stand out to God my Father. 

So back to my Fender fiasco.  A few other considerations:

  • When one strings pops, the others can still continue the song. And when one member of the Body of Christ “over-stretches”, the others can continue the work while the wounded one is gently wrapped around the Headstock until the situation is repaired.
  • Of course, some don’t want to be repaired. Their “break” is, unfortunately, with fellowship altogether.  This is particularly tragic, but offenses still happen and the work of building God’s kingdom is still our mandate.
  • Now, this kind of break generally throws the whole instrument out of tune. Out of tune is just ugly.  It’s best to just STOP, admit the problem regardless how interruptive or awkward, and with the help of others to get back in tune before starting the next song.  Otherwise, the whole song is pretty well useless and distracting.  (I won’t insult you by explaining the obvious comparisons…) 

Admittedly, I can be a bit of a procrastinator.  Some of the team members are gone this coming Sunday, you know, ones that helped cover the distraction of my worn out string.  I finally got the rest of the strings replaced, and now they are s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g so that they will (hopefully) stay in tune tomorrow.  New strings take time.  But that’s for another analogy.

Koinonia is a powerful thing. 

Are you in tune with the rest of the band?    

Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

(by John Fawett)

Mitchell School

quill

Mitchell School was written by one of my bloggish friends, Oneta Hayes.  Oneta is 80+years young, a retired school teacher, and quite an inspiration. Here’s a little bio on this wonderful lady:

FIVE FACTS ABOUT ME. (That is, Oneta…)

  1.  I was born in a dugout in the southeastern plains of Colorado.
  2.  I graduated high school at the top of the class.   Hold the applause -there were only 24 in my class so my odds were pretty good!
  3. My present husband, Sammy, is my only husband.  We have been married 62 years.  (Great opportunities for divorce – 135 times.  Hold it, I’m joking – a little!)
  4. I always loved grammar but was scared and very insecure about composition  writing.  The first real writing began when I was about fifty years old.  I wrote an article called “My Case for Sunday School.”  It was printed in two church denomination magazines.  It was so foreign to my concept of my own ability, I believe it was inspired by God in order to move me to new ministry opportunities.
  5. I’m a member of Toastmasters, Int.  My love for writing and love for speaking go together very well.

I encourage you to visit her site: http://onetahayes.com/ for a refreshing look at life in general.  And, of course, my “disclaimer” is HERE.  ENJOY!

MITCHELL SCHOOL

We talked of community, not neighborhood;
We talked of counties, and towns
We met in schools and courthouse lawns
Wore overalls and dresses, not evening gowns.

The building housed the public school,
A place of learning and social gathering –
There was church, spelling bees, the voting booth
A center of knowledge – perhaps, just a smattering.

From eight years old to eleven or twelve
Mitchell School, was my place to go
It was not true that we walked in rain
By then, folks were modern, you know.

Owning their farms, livestock, and cars,
Their taxes kept that school house firm
Paid the teachers and bought the books
All gung-ho and ready for a new term.

Then the children grew up and moved
Adults bought new Chevys and Fords
The walls of Mitchell School began to fall
“Save the School” was a slogan – no action, just words.

To folks like me, ‘tis a pleasant memory, but
With no one left to maintain it with pride
A snippet was written to serve as a eulogy
And Mitchell School’s walls just fell down and died.

© Oneta Hayes, used with permission   Visit her at: http://onetahayes.com/

(PS, just in case anyone is keeping track, this post counts for my BLOGGING BLAST this week!!)