Part IV - My How Things Have Changed - Walking The Walk

In 1990, a good friend (who has since passed away) introduced me to a guitarist.  Now, this wasn’t just any guitarist- this was one of those guys who was a real game changer, and would have a profound effect on my life, both from a playing perspective, but more than that.  Much more.  This friend was a drummer- a very, very good one.  He had been recommended to me by the keyboard player from a former band I had been in.  This drummer, Rick, had been basically railing on players that he had met, but when he met me, he said “I have GOT to introduce you to my buddy..” and thus it began.

Our first meeting was an interesting one.  We met at a mutual friend of the drummer and guitarist’s- a guy who had just opened a little recording studio in downtown Santa Ana.  He was shaking the bugs out of his new studio and wanted to have some capable musicians come in and jam and he’d record it.  It wasn’t gonna cost anything, so we could just have fun.  We did several things after introductions- one of which was a really schmaltzy swing version of Rush’s “YYZ” (as a joke) and a stab at John Scofield’s “Protocol”- and I knew immediately that this guitarist was good.  REALLY good.  Not just at lead playing- he loved doing rhythm guitar and had interesting instincts.  He was also a fellow Berklee guy, and that made it all the more enticing.

Immediately after meeting, he kind of fell off my radar.  I didn’t know it, but he had moved to Iowa with his then girlfriend.  I then joined a new group – a prog band of all things – and we set about gigging and recording, rehearsing and writing – all the normal things.

Somewhere along the way, the wheels started to fall off in this new band with our guitarist.  We finally ended up letting him go (and he also quit on the same day) and the keyboardist/singer in the group and I started talking about a new guitarist.  I remembered this guy I had met and tracked him down- and I found out that he had just moved back into the area after breaking up with his girl-fiend.  (No, I did not misspell that)  He was interested, since prog was his first love.

After about 4 notes in his audition, the guys in this band were completely hooked- he was in.  He had it all – chops, tone, looks, ideas- and he was a good hang, too.  Only one thing was missing:

He wasn’t a Christian, and we all were.  This was also a Christian Progressive Rock band, too.

It turned out to not be a problem.  Our new guitarist was one of these rare individuals who had his beliefs (he was raised Catholic, but had some bad experiences and now wasn’t interested) and knew we had ours, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him, nor were the rest of the band members threatened in any way.  He told us early on that if, during a gig, someone wanted to discuss Christianity, that he would just refer them to us.  While this might sound kind of “lumpy” to some (or, “unequally yoked” in Christian parlance) it worked out great.  The rest of the band members would attempt – every now and then – to witness to this guitarist – and every time we did that, he would respectfully listen but would lightly turn us down.  It just was never a problem, and when the occasion did arise that someone would approach him at a gig, he did just what he said he was going to do- refer them to the rest of the band.  No problems.  No issues.

Unfortunately, in early 1993, despite our best efforts, the prog band broke up.  There were lots of reasons, but not one of them was our disparity of beliefs.  (The real reasons are unimportant for this entry in my story)  We all went our separate ways, but this guitarist and I stayed in touch, and we remained good friends.  (So much so that my kids, to this very day, refer to him as their “uncle” –and he very much is just that.)  And, in late 1995, I moved my entire family some 1,200 miles away from Southern California to Seattle, Washington.

In 1998, my guitarist friend came to visit me and my wife in Seattle.  I arranged a recording session so that he and I could play together again, and he even got paid on his vacation.  He then mentioned to me that he was really sick of Southern California and was thinking about moving.  I suggested Seattle, and he was intrigued, but I didn’t think anything would really come of it.  A few months later, he called me and said that his younger brother was moving to Seattle, and he wanted to know if it was ok for him (the guitarist) to come visit – and could he bring his new girlfriend?  “ABSOLUTELY!!!” was my unhesitant reply.

So, my friend and his girlfriend come to visit.  She seems nice enough, and we have a great time.  The upshot of it all- they had already decided to move to Seattle!!! This was pretty much a fact-finding mission.  My wife and I were thrilled, and we even went as far as to help them find a place.  They moved up and all was well……for a bit.  (For the purposes of this entry, I shall not go into the details of their break-up, but it wasn’t pretty.)  This guitarist and I were tight right from the get go on the Seattle music scene- and we even toured Europe and Australia in 2000; performed at the Winter OIympics in 2002 in Salt Lake City; trips to various parts of the US- it was like we never stopped- and all of this done with Christian groups in Christian settings – and my friend was not a Christian.  Still.  (The occasional “witnessing” still happened, but it just didn’t seem to take.)

About this time, I help actually start a new church in 2001.  My part was to help facilitate the band and the music, and I talked with the pastor of this new church and told him about my guitar player friend.  I told him that my friend was not a Christian.  The pastor wanted to meet him first, and that seemed reasonable to me, so I set that up.  Being that the pastor was also a guitarist – and, another Berklee guy at that – once they met, they became great friends.  The pastor agreed that my friend should be the guitarist at church- now, remember- this guitarist was not a Christian – and that didn’t matter to the pastor. 

By this time, it’s 2002.  I’ve now known this man for about 12 years, and he’s as close to me as a brother.  Closer than most brothers in fact.  My kids refer to him as “uncle”.  He doesn’t knock at my front door when he comes to my house because he doesn’t have to.  If he’s in town, he has Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner at my house- we don’t even ask.  We don’t have to- he’s family, all the way.  I’ve been through thick and thin with him, and he with me.  We’ve played all over the world together; we’ve got a shared history – hell, we even went to the same college (about 6 years apart, but…..) and even though there is this potential for a tremendous barrier between us- I am a Christian and he is not – it just doesn’t matter.  I’ve introduced him to many, many Christian musicians over the years, and every single one of them loves him and they don’t care that he’s not a Christian, either.  He’s just a quality human being.  But, all that said, I ache for the fact that, as much as I dearly love my brother, he doesn’t have the Blessed Assurance that I have in Christ- a fact that gnaws away at me.  I pray for him constantly, and my talks with him become pointed- but there’s so much history between us, it is difficult for me to witness to him without getting dogmatic- and he’ll retreat and I won’t chase him, so I stop after a while.  I decide that if he’s gonna be Christian, it’s pretty much up to God how and when – and if that happens.

One thing that I have maintained throughout my walk of faith is that talk is cheap.  James 2:17 says that faith without works is dead; I can think of no better work that walking the walk instead of just talking the talk.  Throughout my walk, my goal is simple: exhibit faith by doing that that is right, even when no one is looking, for that is the true measure of a man.  It’s easy to say the right things, it is quite another to do them.  In the relationship with my guitarist friend, that meant being a friend first, Christian second.  When he was doing things I didn’t approve of, I told him that, and I always tried to be gentle about it.  Sometimes he heard me, sometimes he didn’t.  Sometimes he would course-correct, sometimes I would have to do that.  No matter what, though, my love for my friend and my support of him – no matter how difficult or trying – was paramount.  I am happy to say that the people that I introduced him to in Seattle felt the same way.  They recognized that he was a “true human being” – the kind of quality individual that any thinking, rational person would want as a friend – and took the same action – without me having to say anything – that I did.  My friend was becoming very influential in all the same circles as I had become, and even though everyone knew he wasn’t a Christian, for whatever reason that just didn’t matter.  All the while, though, it hurt me, and I never told him that.  I just kept quiet and just kept being his friend.

On a sunny, Sunday afternoon, my friend and I were crossing an overpass on 124^th Street and I-405 in Kirkland, and I was driving.  We were just yacking about nothing in particular, and the conversation went something like this:

“So, what have you been up to this last week?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing really.  I had a gig with so-and-so last week.  We had a rehearsal- man, those tunes were hard.  And, then we talked about a few things……yada…..yada….yada……and I accepted Christ as my Savior……yada….yada…..yada……”

I about steered the car right off the overpass.

“WHAT???!??  What happened???  How???? Why?????”  I was shocked.

“Oh, it’s no big deal, really.  I didn’t really know how to tell you”, he says, sheepishly.

Now, if my friend (whose name I have not mentioned and I’m not going to) is reading this, it probably wasn’t a big deal to him, and I tried not to make a big deal about it, either – but in my mind, I was reeling. 

12 years. 

12 YEARS. 

12 YEARS!!!!!

 I’ve been praying for this to happen – thick and thin doesn’t even begin to describe it – countless numbers of times I’ve talked to him and I know others have, too- and in a very small, still moment – when my guard is down (read:gone) he drops this bomb on me.  I know that if my friend is reading this, he has no idea that it had this much impression on me, but it just simply did.  As I was driving, I was literally choking back tears of joy.  (I don’t remember if I was successful or not.)  All I do know is that the rest of the conversation is a blur.  My joy was overwhelming.

You see- this means one thing.  My beloved friend and brother – I now know, beyond the shadow of any kind of doubt, that I get the honor and privilege of getting to spend Eternity with you.  Your masterful guitar playing and your quality human-beingness means nothing- that God, the Father of Heaven and the Creator of the Universe, has chosen you to be His child, and I along with you get to worship the Almighty together, forever.  This life – this moment in the morning of our day – means nothing in terms of that Eternity.  I am overwhelmed.  I am blessed.  I am thankful beyond measure.  The angels may be rejoicing in Heaven, but I am…….I lack words.  I am undone.

My point in this entry is to exhibit that God does answer His children’s requests, and the answer is always “in My Timing, child, and not necessarily yours”, and it is incumbent upon all of us as Believers in a Living and Holy God to make the effort and let the chips fall where they may.  That is all we need do- to pray, have faith and follow through, and do so with reckless abandon and boldness.  People and the church spend far too much time holding others accountable, but not as much when they are faced with having to hold themselves accountable and to put their self-accountability into action by just trusting that God will do as He says He will.

Since that day, my good friend’s life has changed immeasurably.  I don’t know if he attributes these changes in his new found faith, but from where I sit that is the single source.  In 2006, my friend married a fantastic woman (everyone who knows her approves beyond measure- she is as quality a person as he is, and they make a great couple) and even though we don’t see each other as much anymore (and, if you are reading this, we really need to change that) I know that we will get Eternity in God’s house to catch up.