With all the changes in the life of my family, the idea of beginnings seems to be a recurring theme. I think back to the good ole days at Almeda Baptist Church and the excitement of discovering faith for the first time as alive and vital. I remember the Sunday School classes and wonder how those poor saints put up with me and those like me. I give thanks for those sacred memories and actually trace the beginnings of my calling to ordained ministry as starting in that little church.
I am reliving the feeling of falling in love with music through the talents of my fourteen year old son. His abilities fascinate me and I remember the incredible voices of those who attended the High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. I think of choir trips and classical music which spoke into places within my spirit that I never knew existed. Through studying the classics, I discovered God in a more profound way. I remember being introduced to Stravinsky and my first reaction was to run in horror. I wondered how anyone could call the endless disjointed flowing of Latin syllables music.
My skepticism gave way to complete awe. I remember standing on the stage as the choir sang the last movement. The light shined on the stage in a way that brought the throne of God directly to that space. In the matter of three months of working on the “Symphony of Psalms,” I discovered that classical music could not only move me emotionally, but touch that part of me that begged for order and structure.
Today I find myself very grateful for beginnings. I celebrate the moments in which I contribute to the process of creation. I stand at the threshold of chaos and with a breath that is given by the Spirit, create something new and fresh. I design something that had never existed before. Sometimes it is from scratch (ex nihlio), while sometimes it is an open window. Whatever it is, I step into a new space and nothing else will ever be the same.
From a Pastor's Point of View 