Sweet Release

Let me tell you what sweet release means to me.

Several years ago, my wife had an operation on her foot that left her nearly helpless for weeks. Unable to walk, there was little she could do but lie down, bear agonizing pain, and hope for some relief when she took pain meds.

I got the call a few days after her surgery. All I could hear as I picked up the phone was “Anthony, I need you!”.  I raced home to find her in excruciating pain, and with eyelids swollen. Her throat was starting to swell. The pain medication had triggered an allergic reaction.

We raced to the ER, as much as you can race with someone who cannot walk, in pain almost too great to talk.

I have never felt quite as powerless as I did that day. Powerless to provide comfort, powerless to provide relief, powerless to fix anything. As she laid in the ER bed, eyes closed due to the pain, the doctor injected her with something that must have been from heaven.

The look that came across her face is burned into my memory. Sweet release, played out right before my eyes.

That’s what sweet release means to me.  The memory of that day, the day I was powerless to help. The day I watched my wife go from unbearable pain to sweet, peaceful rest in a matter of seconds.

Quieting The Storm

The days leading up to our ER visit had been like a quiet storm. Constant pain, broken sleep, more pain. A storm of discomfort and anxiety. By the time we reached the ER, it felt like a tornado.

Jesus said it’s not those who are well that need a doctor, but those who are sick.

Maybe you’ve got enough money that you can ignore the deep, inner pain that so many people deal with their whole lives. Maybe you don’t know any people who’s lives are a wreck. Maybe you never see pain.

But for many of us, people like me, we’ve reached a point where we are not among the well. We count ourselves among the sick, the broken, the hopeless.

For 30 years of my life, I wrestled with so many deeply rooted issues of significance, worthiness, fear, and at times depression. No amount of money, or friends could hide the fact that something was wrong.

The picture of how I felt inside would look much like Lori’s face right before the medication hit. A tired, worn-out soul, a heart bruised and covered with scar tissue, too hurt to know that there was anything better.

..from the grip of these chains

One day, my first set of chains broke off. They were the chains I had been using to convince myself that nobody cared about what I had to say. Chains around my own self-worth.

And when they broke off, I broke down. I don’t know which was stronger, the grip the chains had on me, or the grip I had on those chains. But the feeling I experienced as they dropped was like nothing else I had ever been through.

That day, the storm inside quieted for the first time I could remember. I felt like I could breath for the first time. A millstone had been lifted from around my neck.

And when I looked up, I saw a God that had not been putting his foot on my neck to keep me down. Rather, he had been waiting, all those years, to take my pain, my heartache, my chains.

Waiting for me to walk by his side, released from false obligation, unbearable expectation, fear of failure, and the constant fear of abandonment.

That’s why when I hear the words of this chorus, the words come from a place inside so deep, that the tears often prevent me from singing.

If you’ve ever tried to push a car with no driver at the wheel, you already know the problems of being pushed.  There’s a reason that cars are towed from in front, rather than pushed from behind.  But more on that in a minute.

A summary of this post

I spent over 8 years using all my skills to to gain attention and validation for myself as a musician in a band.  This need for validation and attention served as my steering as I was pushed by the need to please people and the drive to accomplish great things.  I couldn’t even see God’s plan for my life because it didn’t involve the things that I thought would bring me the most attention. Once God healed the areas that caused me to be driven, and I learned to follow his leading, I was able to follow him along a path that brought me more fulfillment than I ever experienced while being driven and pushed.

Where He’s Led Me

Over the past 16 months, I’ve been creating blues guitar lessons and posting them on YouTube, and selling them to like-minded guitarists around the world.

As of this writing, these lessons have attracted over 2 million views on YouTube, and draw about 10,000 people a month to my website.  I get emails from people every day that would, and sometimes do, make a grown man shed a tear of joy.  Emails telling me about how someone picked up the guitar after 20 years and is finally playing the way they always wanted, or how a proud dad is watching his 6 year old son learning things he never thought possible.

Most of the skills I needed to accomplish this I had learned long before I ever started to use them this way.

Where I Was Driven

Being driven can make you do some crazy things.  The slightest bit of ’tilt’ in your wheels can cause you to veer off course, at the mercy of whatever drives you.

For the longest time, I thought I was going to be the next Stevie Ray Vaughan.  Not once did I stop to consider why.  I realize today that I had a massive need for validation.  My guitar playing skills were what I felt made me special, and I intended to prove it to the world.

My steering was off.

With such a void in my life, the constant push to please people, and the pressure to accomplish, I was pushed again and again, driven off course by the loneliness that ached at my very core.

I spent 10 years of my life starting bands, playing a few gigs, writing songs about stuff that only mattered to me, and constantly wondering when my ship was going to come in and rescue me from this life of obscurity that I was condemned to with all the ordinary people of the world.  I was destined for greatness, and all my skills were testament to that fact.

I made websites, advertisements, logos.  I converted a spare room or basement in every house I rented into a recording space for my ‘art’.  In 2001 I recorded a CD and played every instrument and sang everything myself.  By the time I had spent $2000 getting it finished, I realized that it sucked and over 900 of them still sit in boxes in my attic.

In 2005 I recorded another live CD of a concert I had been planning for 6 months.  The quality was mediocre at best, yet I sank another $2000 into getting another set of boxes full of CDs for my attic, again.

I prided myself on my songwriting skills.  I wrote complex songs that didn’t groove, and abandoned the music that I really loved. The strangest things is that I was taking songwriting cues from other songwriters who’s music I didn’t even really enjoy.

Being pushed to please people caused me to expend my time and energy on projects that I had not even consulted my wife about.  For many months, I had people coming into our house 2 or 3 times a week to record.  All because I felt a false sense of obligation to people that I loved, a slight misalignment in my steering that allowed me to be driven off the path that God would have had me on.

One day my wife asked me what my 5 year plan was, and I was brought face to face with the reality that I had no vision for my life.  I had no 5 year plan.  I was completely caught up in what I could do right now to make myself known to the world.

When I Stalled

It’s a vast oversimplification to say that I read some books and was fixed, but that’s how it started.  I learned some things about my faith that I hadn’t known before, and before you know it, I stopped caring about getting a record deal or getting famous.  I stopped feeling obligated to please people, or even to participate in most things I was doing.  I just wanted to stop.  So I did for a while.  And it felt good.

But that’s not where it ended.

The Pulling Begins

In October 21, 2007 I put up my first guitar lesson on YouTube, and in less than 4 months I was selling hundreds of lessons a month to people around the world.  I didn’t start with a plan, I had no agenda.  I actually felt like I could barely keep up with the growing success of the lessons.

Slowly I began to see myself being pulled along a path that I had never seen.  I had answered a simple question from God that night when he asked me “Why aren’t you putting guitar lessons on YouTube?”  I wasn’t driven to do it, I just did what I felt he had asked me to do.

As the lessons grew more and more successful, I tried to turn the steering wheel a couple times, but when you’re being pulled by a force stronger than your ability to turn the wheel, the pull straightens out your steering.  His leading kept me from getting bogged down in things that would only take me off course.  The vision of where he was leading me was so compelling that it caused me to stop putting my hands on the wheel and just trust the pull.

It was as if he was in control.

I’m not going to suggest that God is the only source of pulling.  Certainly people who don’t know God are pulled by great dreams of things to come.  But I truly believe that God’s pull is the one that will bring the most fulfillment in any person’s life.

But it’s hard to be led, when you’re still being driven.

Are you living to prove a point?  Are you waiting at the drop of a hat to tell someone about that thing that you care so deeply about?  If so, I’ve got some very bad news for you.  People probably don’t like hearing you talk about it.  It’s not you, it’s us.  It’s just how we’re made.

I’m not trying to bring anyone down, or anything like that, but my heart is for people to experience life to the fullest, and you simply can’t do that when you walk around with a millstone of knowledge that you’re waiting to drop around someone’s neck.

How do I know this?  Because I was once the point man, and sometimes still slip into that role.  Whatever I was going through at any given time, was my point, and it didn’t matter if what you were talking about had anything to do with it or not, you better believe it was coming up in conversation. 

Being a Christian only made this worse.  Now I had good reason to prove my points.  Beacuse I was doing God’s work, and trying to make people better.  Until I realized how broken I was.  Hurt, scared, terrified of not being heard. 

What kind of point can you try and prove when you realize that you’re whole life has been spent trying to gain people’s approval?  About the only thing you want to do is shut up and not open your big fat mouth ever again.  This phase doesn’t last forever, but you can never again start dumping your point all over a perfectly good conversation in total innocence again.

When I started to learn what it really meant to experience complete validation and really know what the love of God feels like, I stopped caring about proving points to people.  I just wanted them to experience the same thing.  That can turn into a point to prove in and of itself, but part of that whole experience is learning that people can not be bullied into experiencing true validation. 

Are you living to prove a point?  If so, it’s possible that you’re not really doing either.

There is about 100% chance that sometime today, perhaps even while reacting to this post, you will do or say something that you think is perfectly normal, but is in fact a way of coping with something you feel because of something that happened to you while you were growing up.

Nice, right?  But of course, we all want to say "Not me, I’m over <fill in name of event that hurt you here>".  Sometimes we can’t even think what to put in the <   >.  We picture ourselves free and clear of the past, in control of our lives, and we just are the way we are.

But what if we’re not?  What if I’m not just the way I am?  What if I’m really better than I am?  What if I’m coping with hurts from the past and I don’t even know it?  And here’s what can really start your wheels turning.

What if other people can see what I’m really doing even if I can’t?

Where it all began for me

My unraveling began several years ago when talking to Rob, someone who saw right through me.  I was telling him, half-joking, about how when i get on the phone with a company who has acted shady, I want to rip them a new one and MAKE them remember me.  But then I tell myself "Who do you think you are? Nobody cares enough about what you say to make it worth while.".

As I told this little story to him, I assumed that he would chuckle and agree that it’s not worth unloading on a customer service rep. when they don’t really care what we have to say.  But Rob pulled a 180 on me and got really, really serious, really really quickly.

He held up my car keys, and his car keys side by side.  He said "Don’t you see that you want to tear into this person." as he moved his keys front ahead of mine, "and then you say ‘nobody cares what you say’", pointing to my keys, which represented what I thought came second.  "But in reality, it’s the other way around.  You feel as if nobody cares what you think, and that makes you want to tear them a new one, and MAKE them know who you are".  At this point he swapped the keys to reflect the reversal or order, and I completely lost it. I burst into tears like a little girl and wept for at least 10 minutes straight.

That was my moment.  That’s when I realized that I had been walking around like a puppet on a string.  I wasn’t simply calling up AT&T and yelling at them because they suck at customer service.  What I was REALLY doing was much deeper.  Inside I was terrified that nobody would listen to me, that I’d be taken advantage of, and that they’d all sit there and laugh at how badly they ripped me off.  So to make sure that didn’t happen, I called and tried yell my way to a position where they’d remember me and think twice before taking advantage of me again.  And I just thought I was reacting to an errant charge.

Right now, what are you doing?

You’re eating lunch with a friend you haven’t seen in a while, you’re talking too much.  What are you doing?  Making small talk?  Maybe, but what if you’re not?  What if you always do this every time you feel as if you’re unsure how a situation will go?  Talk, fill space, keep it moving.  You think you’re just being conversational, but you’re really being fearful and controlling the situation.

You’re at the basketball court waiting for a chance to play.  You think you’re being polite and waiting to be asked to join a team.  But what if you’re deeply afraid of calling "next game"?  What if by waiting to be asked, you’re really trying to fill a need for being needed?

What, Why, and Why

I have found that in the years following that event, there is a pattern that has emerged from the times I realize that another part of me is still being controlled like a puppet.  It involves 3 little questions:

1. What: What am I doing?
2. Why: Why am I doing this?
3. Why: But why am I feeling this way?

Here’s an example from above:

What am I doing? 
Calling AT&T to complain about a bill they sent that I already paid.

Why am I doing this?
Because I’m furious that they’d try to rip me off.

But why is that?
Because I’m terrified that they are ripping me off and that no matter what I do, it won’t make a difference because no one cares about what I say or do.

Answering that second ‘Why’ is an entry point into some uncomfortable areas.  The real kicker is that it starts a series of "Yeah, but why?" questions that would make any 2 year old jealous. 

The other side of why

If you allow yourself to ask those questions, and don’t accept that everything you do just is the way it is because you are the way you are, you will find deliverance, freedom and peace beyond anything you’ve ever experienced.  And a lot more strings attached than you ever imagined

However I find myself now facing some new things in life that could mean some radical changes to the structure I’ve gotten used to.  It feels like the beginning of a new adventure.  And I find this new-found peace being shaken by an invitation to come along for a life-changing journey.  There was a time when I plunged head first into things like this because of the need to prove myself to everyone, to prove myself worthy of God’s love.  To earn the respect of others.

However, now that much of that has passed, I find myself here still afraid of change, worried that the blessings will run out.  So without the push of my ego and need for validation, I have to ask myself, why would I go?  Why would I dare mess with what’s working?  Why would I try something new?

I am compelled to accept the invitation because I believe that He has good things for me ahead.  He will not force me to go anywhere.  But if I accept the invitation to follow Him through this transition period, I know it will be a great adventure.

Have you ever faced a potential life-changing decision?  Do you just plunge in headfirst with no thought for why you do it?  Maybe you sit back and do nothing because you’re afraid….

Walking with God won’t always be the same picture.  It won’t always be still waters around us.  But He can create still waters inside us.

"Can I have another shot of those eye drops?"

I would have done anything to get rid of that pain.  I knew the drops were not good for my eyes in the long run, but I just didn’t care.  Once I experienced even a little bit of relief, I just wanted to keep the pain away.  Thank God the doctors weren’t allowed to give me what I wanted that day.

Sin is medication – Most things that we consider "bad" are really just pain medication.  Most people feel a dull ache in their soul and will do anything to find some satisfaction.  That ache comes from a lifetime of missing the one thing that can fulfill us completely.

The ache inside - Most of us crave attention.  We long for someone to tell us we’re valuable.  There’s a reason for that.  We were all born incomplete.  There is a need for validation, affection, completion, and affirmation that every single person needs.  Parents, peers, children, and friends cannot completely fill this need. 

So some people turn to Jesus.  They’re promptly taught that the answer to that ache is to serve Jesus.  To do good works.  But they never really learn to experience God rather than serve him.  They continue doing God’s work, thinking that in that work come fulfillment.  But the hunger deep inside for approval and validation continues to hurt.

Is it any wonder that so many people turn to alcohol, drugs, pornography, gambling, sex, fame, or any number of other things?  What do you do when nothing anyone says takes away the ache in your soul?  If you can’t fix it, than you might as well numb the pain. 

Addicted to numbness – There is a physical side to addiction, but I believe there’s also an emotional side to it as well.  How many people get completely wasted because for a couple of hours they feel free from the cares of the world, and they temporarily stop feeling that something is just wrong without being able to fix it. To feel that temporary freedom becomes an addition.  And pretty soon the physical catches up with the emotional and now our bodies are as addicted as our souls are.

Living Water – God is the only thing that can take away the ache in our soul.  The feeling of emptiness.  But it doesn’t happen by studying the Bible if we still view him as a far-in-the-distance God.  Until we come to grips with the fact that he wants to be integrated into our lives like breathing will we experience the fulfillment that only he can bring.

So there I am, browsing youtube, looking at videos of people playing like SRV, and that familiar feeling of dread starts rising up inside of me.  "I need to start practicing, I need to catch up. I need to be better than them all"  But rather than indulge those feelings, I began to step back and ask some tough questions.

Why do I feel the need to be the best guitar player?
If I was the best, what would I want people to say about me?
Why would I want them to say it?
If I was the best and nobody knew it, would I still be happy?

As I began to think about these questions, I realized that the desire to be the best and get attention has been a major driving force in my life.  It has caused me to have bad experiences watching other bands because I have a hard time being in the crowd and not on stage.  To this day, I don’t really enjoy watching live blues music, because it’s so hard for me to just be there in the crowd, like any other normal person.  I know that I could get on stage and play just as good if not better than whoever’s up there playing guitar.

But why should that stop me from enjoying the show?
Why is it so hard to see someone else getting attention for their skill?

The hard truth

Thinking about these things is very hard.  It’s uncomfortable.  But so is being jealous.  It’s hard to be at a good show and want to walk out because something inside of you is screaming "I SHOULD BE UP THERE", "I CAN DO THAT TOO", "LOOK AT ME!!", "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!".

I don’t ever remember wishing I was on a "best-dressed" list.  Because I don’t care.  I enjoy dressing nice because I like the clothes.  I could care less if I’m known for it. But why? Because I don’t think that how I dress makes me any more valuable to anyone.  I know it doesn’t make me any more important.  I am not a better person when I dress well. Through the uncomfortable simplicity of logic, I therefore realized the following hidden truths about myself:

I think that my guitar playing makes me more valuable as a person.

I think that my guitar playing makes me more important.

I believe I am a better person because I play guitar well.

I have a tremendous need to appear "special" to people and I believe that my guitar playing makes me "special".

Some part of me still believes that I was supposed to be the one to "make it" as the next young blues guitar sensation.

Where do I go from here?

God help me…..

I’m going to try and disect what I was feeling and why I was feeling it.  But first, let me go back in time a bit to explain how I got here.

When I started playing guitar, I began to learn very quickly.  I learned entirely by ear, and within two years had started my own band.  My playing was still pretty rough, but even at that time, I had learned some things that some people never learn.  But back then, there was no YouTube, and not many musicians had websites.  So I thought I was the only one.  I honestly believed that I was alone in my ability to mimic the style of Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Then one day I learned of a young guitar player named Kenny Wayne Shepherd.  He was only 16 and could play exactly like Stevie Ray Vaughan.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was much better than me.  His playing was polished way beyond his years.  I was mortified.  Here was this young punk taking my place as the rightful heir to the Stevie Ray Vaughan throne.  But he didn’t sing.

Then I heard about another young guitar player named Johnny Lang.  He wasn’t as awsome of a guitar player, but he sang better that most people 3 times his age.  He was only 15.  Again, I was mortified.  I was missing my chance.

A couple years passed and I continued in my pursuit of the crown.  And then I heard of the band Indigenous.  The lead guitar player was named Mato Nanji.  And he was incredible.  He sounded just like Stevie Ray Vaughan.  Oh, and he sang too.  Really well.  And again, I was mortified.  This was supposed to be me.  I was supposed to be the one getting the accolades, the one being featured in guitar magazines.  What was I doing wrong?

Then one day I decided to do a search to see what my competition was.  Much to my surprise, the internet was littered with guitar players who were more than happy to compare themselves to the late, great, SRV.  Some were ridiculously bad, but a lot of them were not.  I began to have a revelation in that moment.  My gift of guitar playing was great, but it was not unique.  I was not the only one.  There were many just like me.  In a way, I was not special at all.  Just another wannabe Stevie Ray Vaughan clone.

But I kept pressing.  I was up for the challenge. I’d be better than all of them.  Better than Kenny, Mato, and the rest. 

But God interrupted my quest for the title of "The Next SRV", and showed me a better way.  I stopped caring about being famous, being on stage and just enjoyed my gifts.  I started putting guitar lessons on the internet at www.steviesnacks.com.  And I began looking for other people who were doing the same thing.  And that brings me back to last night.  Which I’ll write about tomorrow….

What if the things I get excited about aren’t really important to him?  What if the things that make me who I am aren’t important to him, but only the things that people traditionally associate with being "Christian".  What if my gift for playing blues guitar doesn’t matter to him?  What if my interests and talents in the technology world are just distractions from what he really wants me to be doing?  What if I’m doing this all wrong?  What if he’s not there with me at work, helping me discover how to solve problems?  What if he’s not really speaking to me throughout the day?

What if God is sitting in Heaven  watching me waste my time down here on things that he’s not interested in? (….silence)

I know now, more than ever, that I will NEVER go back to believing that.  I can’t.  What I have experienced in the last year or so is more precious to me than anything I’ve ever had or known.  If for some reason I got stuck in a really religious church that didn’t believe that this is how God interacts with us, it would break my heart.  If I was told that what I’m gifted in didn’t matter to him, or that my music wasn’t from him, I wouldn’t know how to go on living.

He whom the Son sets free is free indeed.

The relationships that I got into were short and dramatic. I had my heart broken in quick fashion. Twice I thought I had met the girl I was going to marry. Until it fell apart. The drama was like a drug, I didn’t know what life was like without it.

When I met Lori, I experienced a peaceful relationship with no drama. It seemed strange and wonderful, but my soul was still in motion, still running. So I worked. And worked. And worked. Kept busy chasing that thing that was always just around the corner. The record deal. Whatever. Missed many quiet evenings together. I was fast-forwarding through life.

But finally, I have come into a place of peace. I have found what I was looking for.  I have found my significance in the only thing that matters.  After 31 years of chasing what can’t be caught, my soul is at rest.

Read the article here…

As I listened to them offer us one thing after another, I realized that I was watching someone verbalize what so many of us struggle with.  It’s very hard to accept the fact that when Jesus died for us, it was unconditional.  It wasn’t based on anything we did.  It was based on the fact that God loved us so much.  So this brings up two interesting facts.

1. We cannot earn our salvation because it’s already done.
2. Beacause we can’t earn it, we’ll never deserve it.

Earn

I’m not sure what the dictionary definition of that word is, but I’ve always interpreted it to mean "to make progress towards, to pay off".  There are many things in this life that we must earn.  We must earn our grades, we must earn our pay at our jobs.  But salvation is not something we can’t earn.  We can’t make payments towards it.  If we could that would mean that Jesus’ sacrifice was not enough.  To put it bluntly, God did not send his Son to die for me so that he could hold it over my head for the rest of my life while I pay him back for it.  It was his choice, based on His love for me.  Nothing I can do can make that sacrifice justified.

Deserve

When someone says "you deserve it", they usually mean that you have paid an adequate price for something, it’s rightful that you should have it.  You deserved a promotion because you earned it.  Being deserving of something implies a state of arrival.  When I have arrived at the state of deserving something, it’s because of the long process of earning it.  After I work a full month earning my wages, I deserve my paycheck.

But since salvation cannot be earned, it means that we’ll never deserve it.  We will never arrive at a state where salvation is rightfully ours.  It will forever be the perfect gift that we must accept without the ability to pay off, earn, deserve, or otherwise validate.  And that’s extremely difficult to accept.  Because everything else in my life I feel that I have to earn so that I’ll deserve what I have.

Salvation and beyond…

It’s funny how your perspective on everything changes when you begin to deal with your own discomfort knowing that you’re the recipient of the greatest symbol of love mankind has ever received, and it has nothing to do with your good works.  All of a sudden, you begin to realize that the reason you’ve been judging people is because you’ve always felt that you have what you have because you earned it.  And therefore you deserve it. 

What an amazing life this can be when you can look at all your blessings, and instead of patting yourself on the back for how hard you worked to get it all, you can simply look the Father in the eyes and say "Thank You".  You have what you have because he blessed you with it.  Not because you worked hard, and not because you deserve it.

As a 7th grader, I discovered that I had a talent for basketball. I became obsessed with Michael Jordan. His playing was the best there ever was, and I wanted to play and move like he did more than anything. So I played, and I played, and I played. I spent many long evenings on the local courts. I was able to dunk a basketball by the time I was in 10th grade. I was not an outstanding jumper before I started playing basketball, but the drive to be like Mike compelled me to practice my double-pump layups, and dunking so much that by the time I was in 10th grade I could out-jump nearly everyone on my team. I never amounted to much as an organized basketball player, but on the outdoor courts of Manheim, PA, I became a small legend. I remember many nights where we were playing under the lights, and due to the 6" low rims at our courts, we had some spectacular acrobatics. 360s, double-pump reverse dunks, even windmills, and windmills after a toss, off the backboard. It became a challenge to imitate the dunks we saw in the annual NBA dunk competition. By the time I got to college, I had seen the writing on the wall and knew I wasn’t ever going to be an NBA superstar, but there was a time as a kid that I wanted so badly to get there that I told my parents (while in tears) that I was going to be better than Michael Jordan.

I loved basketball, but even more than that, I loved attention, and I wanted people to talk about me the way they talked about Michael Jordan. Then I discovered the guitar, and the music and legend of Stevie Ray Vaughan.

As strongly as I was gripped by the image of the superhero in red and black,wearing #23, the passion and ferocity of Stevie Ray Vaughan’s guitar playing reached out and shook me like nothing I had ever experienced. Before that, guitar was something I enjoyed, but watching Stevie play "Say What" on SNL absolutely floored me. I couldn’t even move I was so mesmerized. And later, watching him play "Texas Flood" at the El Mocambo club on video, there’s a moment where he’s turned looking at the camera with his eyes closed, as a really excruciating bend on the High E String just screams. At that moment I understood why this music was touching me the way it was. The way he looked was how I felt. I had always been an emotional person and had suffered through two very disappointing relationships in junior high and high school. Those relationships had ripped me apart because of my need for validation and acceptance, and my fear of abandonment. When I saw Stevie playing the way he did, I saw someone who was able to express what I was feeling in something much more powerful than words.

So I played, and I played and I played. When my fingertips started separating from my fingernails, I put superglue under the tip of my fingernail to keep them together. I played until my fingertips were shredded. Just like when I learned how to imitate MJ, I learned how to imitate SRV. But this time it was much more personal. Beneath the love of the music was still a deep need for validation and a desire to be important and respected. I began to think that music was my future.

Fortunately God orchestrated the events of my life so that I couldn’t move to Texas and become the blues phenomenon that I knew I was supposed to become. I ended up getting a very good job in State College which I took gladly because I had grown accustomed to eating and having a place to sleep. But for years I considered this a temporary thing. I honed my songwriting skills, my singing skills, and wondered when it would be "time". I still dreamed of that day when I’d be the one on stage, playing for everyone.

Then I got married.

And still I kept pressing. It won’t be long now, any day now I’ll be ready. Something’s going to happen. I’ll be discovered soon.

Then something funny happened. Someone taught me about what real significance is. I read a couple of books, took some courses, and my whole perspective on life changed. All of a sudden, being famous didn’t matter. Being on stage didn’t seem as great. Even being a successful local musician didn’t seem so great. At first I wondered why this was happening. Why did my dream of playing music seem to be evaporating with every passing day as I learned that nothing in this world would make me more important than the fact that Jesus accepted me?

Then it hit me. I was chasing the lights of the stage because of a need for significance. But I found that significance in the only thing that would ever satisfy me, and all of a sudden, music didn’t seem to matter as much. I could stay at home, write songs, and never get signed to a record deal and it would be fine with me. Music is a very hard industry to make a good living in. I’m not a "on-the-road-touring" kind of guy. I like being at home. I plan on having a family. And I’m extremely thankful for the fact that God’s given me the ability to work with computers because it will be much easier to provide for my family at home with those skills, than to be on the road for months out of the year playing music.

I may never do music as a career and I’m fine with that. If I do it will be because the God leads me in that path. I am no longer driven to get there. When you finally find what you’re looking for, don’t be surprised by what leaves when you find it.