There is an often neglected or perhaps, unseen part of almost everything we see or do. A critical part that is absolutely essential. It was when the Gators were having one of those intense conversations in the comfy living room or the Gator habitat. Home. Both of them were struggling to find a deeper meaning to the intensity of their lives. The seemingly insignificant impact they have on truth and the revealing of truth to the world. “How can what I have done be of any use whatsoever?”
Gator suddenly remembered a musical incident, decades ago that he treasures but didn’t really know why. The incident was in a crummy and run down city neighborhood, up on the second floor overlooking the main street. A very famous band was in town and the place where Gator lived had a living room large enough to encompass half the neighborhoods up and coming musicians and the band. The band arrived as the word was out in the whole country that this apartment was a Mecca for music skill and release among peers of that skill.
The band casually set up a few guitars and the local musicians began arriving after their gigs and a few bottles and hippie combustibles were handed around. A circle around the famous ones formed and one of the neighborhood pedal steel players, clueless, asked the famous band leader; “Do you guys sing?” “ Sure” the band leader replied. Why don’t you do one of your songs the steel player said. And, the impromptu orchestra began to play. It was a bit loud with about 15 or so playing and Gator was in the circle doing what he could. A bit intimidated by the fast picking and skill of the others for sure. One of those skilled guitar players just stepped in front of Gator and began furiously playing 5 notes a second in a brilliant bluegrass style. Gator moved back and put his guitar back in the case and just listened to the crescendo.
A while later after some imported beer from Wisconsin, the famous band leader sidled up the Gator and asked him to go with him and the band back to San Francisco. “Why me?” Gator asked. He knew he wasn’t the caliber of the room full. “ I like what you added” Was the response. Jerry Garcia asking Gator that question was any of the rooms players fondest hope. Having just come from Berkeley and a narrow escape from death there, Gator said “thank you, but I can’t. But why me?” Jerry answered: “The few notes that you played made the song richer” Stunned again, Gator thanked him and Gators friend, the well known disk jockey, was standing there besides them. Alan Stone. He reminded Gator of that brief conversation years later when some reel to reel recording was done of Gator and his close Army vet. The recordings have been lost since, but the stunning invitation has always given Gator a sense of worth in music.
Gator still tries to play the fast stuff and gets a bit awestruck by the speed and skill of a music major that he plays with now and then. Just a few notes, Soft sometimes. Lingering and bringing a bit of what Gator hears to the ensemble. In a very similar way, a few words of declaration, a witness to one person by you is just as valued as a stadium filled hearing a healing message. The value is not in the size of contact, It is in the accuracy and the intent of the message. Much like an arrow, shot from a powerful bow with a razor sharp point. The target will be missed because of the lack of a small part. The fletching on the arrow. Even one of three of them.
The Lord of all we see, hear and feel tells us our uniqueness and how we fit into His plan for Him. The point of His plan and of it’s destination is of eternal value as the accuracy and beauty of it.
Value is indeed, in the eye of the beholder. You are precious and well known. Jesus loves you, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator