[illusive tunes]

I can't write songs. I just. simply. can't. do it. Don't get me wrong, I've tried. Multiple times. Even recently, I tried writing one for a friend. Without going into too many details, let's just say that three hours and four chords later, I figured I'd stick with store-bought gifts.

I love music. Maybe not obsessively, like some, but I truly enjoy it. I'll let off steam by playing the piano, I'll spend a few minutes on the drums (provided that there's no one around that actually has some talent on them) and I'll play "I'm Yours" or "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" on my ukulele if I'm in a good mood.

But composition? Absolute and utter failure. It's really quite depressing, actually. I have friends who seem to be able to compose an entire songs just because they stubbed their toe that morning, or got a puppy. Somehow that's enough of an emotional boost to release an excess amount of creative juices.

So why am I talking about this?

Well, in my most recent attempt to write a song, I was very frustrated that I couldn't write one. What was wrong? So many people made it seem so simple. Then, just a couple days later, I attended a speech and debate tournament, and was blessed to do incredibly well in my impromptu speaking and got several comments on my ballots, and words from parents thanking me for the way I spoke. "You make people want to go out and change the world. You never miss an opportunity to make the issue matter."

Whoa. Where did that come from? Those comments, and more truly encouraged me, and I realized that, while I hadn't been blessed with the gift of music, I had been blessed with the gift of words, both in speech and in writing.

As I pondered this more, I realized that too often we focus on what we don't have. The skills, the gifts, the capabilities that we don't possess. And, in doing that, we often miss out on the opportunity to use the gifts that we do possess. This revelation in and of itself, if taken to heart, can impact our lives greatly. But then something else hit me.

In the past few weeks I've been reading "Safely Home" by Randy Alcorn, an excellent fictional story about the persecuted church in China. At one point in the book, the main character talks about Martin Luther King Jr.'s quote that says,

"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets as Michelangelo painted, or as Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lives a great street sweeper who did his job well."

This quote sends chills through my body every time I read it. The image it paints is breath-taking and mind-blowing. But even more provocative than the image is the question that quietly begs to be answered.

I've been blessed to be able to communicate well. I can speak in front of groups of people, I can write papers, essays and articles. The gift of communication is one that has a certain amount of glamour to it.

But would I be satisfied with my gifts if God called me to be a street-sweeper? What if that was my gift? What if that was my calling?

To answer honestly, I don't know how I'd respond. I know how I should respond, granted, but I know that my pride would be fighting and screaming in defiance.

What about you? God has a calling for each of us. God has given gifts to each of us. Are we satisfied with them? Are we willing to allow Him to work things together according to his plan?

Now, I don't know if I'll ever write a song. Maybe, someday, if God gives me the grace to persevere. But in the meantime, I will strive every day to be satisfied with the gifts He has given me.

A gift is called a gift because it's something we don't deserve.