E-Letters

This e-letter is written by a new friend of ours, David Guyor. We spent a weekend with him at a ranch in Colorado this summer. When we read it, we heard the voice of God for our own lives.

It is beautiful.

Thank-you David with all our heart (you are now an honorary Inkling).

Your letter has made an impact on our lives.

Jeff

Music

By David Guyor
Aug 05, 2009

For months, my life has felt like piecing together an existence. Not much in the way of heart, vision, or desire. I have felt like a wanderer who is lost. But, lately some things have come to mind, and they remind me of the life God wants me to live but many times a life I feel powerless to experience.

Chesteron said, "The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see." I can spend a lot of time living like a stereotypical, stubborn (sometimes obnoxious) tourist and spend little time living like a seasoned traveler.

Tourists stick out. They're conspicuous. They think they know what they want (of course they do, they've read all the brochures), and they are bound and determined (actually a better word is hell-bent) on getting there, "seeing" it, taking the pics, buying the t-shirt, and moving on. It 's like they care more about proving they were there than actually being there. Their energy seems much more directed towards "seeing it all" so they can say they "saw it all" when, in fact, they have experienced little. So, the trip ends up being more about them than it is about entering into the places and people and history they could have experienced.

In other words, I spend so much time "waiting to live" that I find I have little capacity to simply live, to enter in to what's going on right now and find some rest, beauty or enjoyment. And I think I know why.

I have this list I am usually only semi-conscious of that includes what I need to see happen, where I need to be in life, when I need to arrive, what I need to look like, and what I want or want eliminated, and the lie embedded in this way of "list living" is, if I could only achieve my list, I would finally get over the grudge I live with daily and be happy.

And then the words of an Irish legend came to mind that go something like this: A great warrior chief asks, "What is the finest music in the world?" And various answers are given. "The sound of the Cuckoo calling!", "the ring of a spear on a shield!", "the belling of a stag!", etc. And the chief says, "Yes, they are good sounds all."

Finally, the chief is asked to answer his own question. And what is his answer? "The music of what is happening. That is the finest music in the world!"

Wow. Really? There is music to what is happening right now? Come spend a day with me and, sadly, you would see that I can live like what is happening right now just needs to be gotten through, tolerated, gotten rid of, or frankly, just not enough about me. I do not choose to let go, enter in, and be present.

So, I can choose to be deaf to the "music" of everyday living. And a lot of times, it's not even choosing, it's simply being so used to deafness. It's like getting used to watching a film that has had its beautiful soundtrack removed. The story and characters and movements are still there, but there is something missing.

And then just a couple mornings ago I'm taking a few moments to be quiet, reading a bit and just sitting and looking outside, and the words come to me, "David, your life is beautiful." Father is that you?

Right now, with some important needs not being met (at least they're important to me), my life is beautiful. There's much to experience, beauty all around, three great kids and an amazing wife. Goofing off, making Becky laugh (she gets all my jokes. It's why I married her) and choosing to enter in and hearing the music in my day. Cutting down on the whining, settling in to hear Jesus, watching Drew play ball, taking Emily to Starbucks, washing the cars, playing Spit with Maggie, making time for friends, getting out in the hills and the prairie. All very good stuff to enjoy.

So, my desire to hear the music again is growing. And I need to choose to have ears to hear it.

In a few hours we will head to the midwest for some vacation with family and old friends. And, I want to enter in to whatever happens, whether cranking up the tunes in the van (Emily burned about five cd's of her favorite stuff and I love much of what my daughter discovers and listens to), or maybe even having to deal with my old van or the even older fishing boat we're pulling to northern Michigan.

And I want to be awake! I want to hear the music of what's happening. The finest music in the world.