Continued from Part 3
As we were settling in our new home, my step-mother’s mother had been housing some of our belongings during the transition. While mulling around the basement of her house one day I came across a guitar. I had never held a guitar before nor did I have any idea of how to play it but I knew that I needed to learn it so I could join the worship team. I asked my dad about it and he said that if I could save of up enough money to get it fixed it was mine and he would teach me. I was so excited! Mostly because it was the first time in my life that I had found something that I had an interest in that my father did too.
Over the next few months I saved every penny I could. I did extra chores, hunted in couch cushions, collected bottles and cans. And at last I had the money I needed! We brought it down to the local music store and had them fix it up. A week later I brought it home and then eagerly awaited instruction from my dad. And waited. I had purchased a couple of song books along with the repair so I opened them seeing if I could read the music. Not so much. But on the tops of the music there were musical notes with little diagrams that looked like guitar strings. I put my fingers on the appropriate dots and gave it a strum.
Music! It made a pretty noise! I continued to follow along as it was a song I was very familiar with (Hotel California by The Eagles). Before I knew it I had “played” the song…Very slowly transitioning between the chords but it was there. I was ecstatic, but it was short lived. I brought my new marvel to my father and he was just disappointed. He told me I was doing my fingering wrong and that I should have waited for him. It was a crushing blow to my spirits but I pushed on. This time waiting for his instruction.
I picked up the basics pretty quickly and soon I was to the point where I had learned everything my dad could teach. I began taking private lessons from the worship leaders at church. After much discussion with them I decide to sell my acoustic guitar and purchase an electric one. I found it much easier to play, however I wasn’t much of a lead guitarist. I could play the notes they wrote down for me but couldn’t improvise well. But I continued to work.
A few months went by and there was an announcement at the church that they would be holding open auditions for the worship team. We had grown as a church and had purchased our own building in this time. They were set to go to multiple services on Sunday morning and needed more musicians. I eagerly submitted my application (which was about 5 pages long) and marked my calendar for the day of the instrumental audition.
When the time came I was more than nervous. I had practiced my songs for weeks and knew everything like the back of my hand but just the fact that I knew I was being judged was a scary proposition. The band started and I played my heart out. Well as best I could. I felt every wrong note with a deep agony thinking that would be what cut me. I pressed forward though, knowing the song wouldn’t stop for me. We finished the two audition songs and all I got was a thank you, and was on my way.
The days that followed were pure agony. I waited by the phone and was the first to the mailbox every day. When the phone rang and someone else some how got to it before me I waited to hear my name called from across the house and was usually met with silence. The call finally did come. It was the guy in charge of the worship team asking if I’d like to join the main sanctuary team! I was elated! I thought that I might be added to the children’s wing team but never thought I’d be there!
This is where began to think, “Maybe I could do this for a job some day!”
Continued in Part 5
