A little bedtime story for you all. Friday, Taylor, our wonderful drummer tells me he cannot be at Youth Sunday night to play drums. I email him back and ask if he will still be there Sunday morning for church. No answer. Check Saturday night, no answer. Sunday morning, no Taylor.
Now at this point I love Taylor but I kinda want to hurt hum. Just a little. At the kneecaps. But he's not there to hurt anyway. We have a full band for the first time in forever with no drummer. So we shuffle. I move to drums. But then we need someone to lead. Wes gets to do that. Now another small problem. Wes doesn't know all the songs well enough to lead, so we have to do some shuffling of music as well. All sorts of problems. Right now, Taylor's kneecaps are probably itching wherever he is.
And then it happens. Our time of corporate worship, good. But then Wes sings his special music he was scheduled for, an old hymn from years gone by, and God just hits him. Hits him hard. He's crying while singing. He lifts his hands (this is the guy who three years ago in youth when I told the youth they could raise their hands in worship he looked at me and said, "What are we, Baptists?"). And then, the last during the last song God hits him even harder.
So Taylor, I'm glad you weren't there. I'm still going for your kneecaps, but God had a better plan, better than any of us had planned. I just think it's funny that we do our best to follow God's plan, and I honestly believe we were, we were doing what God wanted, He actually intended to mess us up just so we wouldn't be so set in our ways so something could happen.
Go God.
T
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