Sometimes I think your arm is shaped like a guitar. Seriously. You play it all the time. Even from the farthest corner of the house when you play on a Saturday night I hear you go on and on and on. Sometimes it lulls me to sleep and I have nothing but fondness towards you. Other times I wish I had ear plugs, or brain plugs.
With care you craft every note, because you want to get it right. You know that if you sound the best you can, you are glorifying the Lord. And you don’t accept anything but the best of performance from yourself. Sometimes your drive is an amazing gift. Sometimes it is your downfall. And though often I complain or get annoyed that you are playing the same part over and over, I know it’s a necessary evil. You graciously don’t respond in anger when I have said “give it up all ready” one too many times. You keep playing anyway. You know you need the practice. You know that if you are confident with what you play, you will be able to lead God’s people in worship that much more!
Some may call you a freak of musical nature, because they think it flows out easily like the water from the faucet. But I know better. You are the most musically gifted person I know, however I know how much hard work that “giftedness” takes. I know your musical process is a methodical slow craft. It takes blood, sweat, tears, and hands that ache. But you wear it well, that guitar shaped arm becomes you. It’s a part of you.
