I enjoy reading Sean Dietrich's daily blog posts. He calls his blog "Sean of the South," and he truly "gets" Southerners, especially those of us who grew up in the church. Sometimes he pokes fun at us, but it is in the most loving and respectful ways. And, he was raised on casseroles, meaning he must certainly speak my heart language. He finds the good in people. Often, he's hysterically funny. Other times he's reflective.
Anyway, his post on February 5, 2020, REALLY caught my attention because the title was "The Streets of Decatur," and Decatur is in my neck of the woods. He performed a one-night show on Tuesday night, February 4, at The Princess Theater. I loved the way he described his guitar (Sean is a writer, a humorist AND a musician).
In honor of this occasion, I’m playing my old crummy guitar. It was built in 1919, the same year this room was resurrected.
I got this guitar from a trim-carpenter in Houston who found the guitar shattered in a dozen pieces. He was not a guitar maker, just a run-of-the-mill carpenter. He glued it back together the best he could, but he admits he did a sloppy job. I didn’t care. I’ve been playing it ever since.
It’s not a valuable guitar. For its whole life it’s been a low-grade instrument owned by a list of no-name street performers. In other words, it’s a glorified piece of junk.
But I’ve always liked pieces of junk. Because when junk lasts for a hundred years, it’s no longer junk, it becomes archeology. There’s something to be said for lasting and still making music, even after you’ve been busted.
He went on to describe another time when he performed at The Princess and some of his journey toward becoming a published author, etc., but it was the way he finished his post that grabbed me the hardest.
Here on stage, I am lost in my own head. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I am kind of like this old livery stable. I know what I am underneath the trim work, I’m covered in horse apples. Or maybe I’m like this old guitar. I was once a piece of junk. But someone looked at me and saw something else. Then a carpenter put me back together.
Then a carpenter put me back together. Me, too, Sean. Me, too.
I so needed that reminder. It is way too easy, especially since I was saved at the age of 8, to forget that even as a child, I was broken. I was a sinner in need of a Savior. I didn't go looking for Jesus -- although I was in church all the time. No, I distinctly remember the day HE CAME LOOKING FOR ME. He found me. He saw someone He loved. He desired for me to spend eternity with Him in heaven, but even before that, He wanted to dwell inside me and have a close relationship with me while I walked on earth. When I asked Him to forgive my sins, He did. I am so glad He didn't leave me in that broken condition. I don't even want to THINK about what my life would have been like if Jesus had not become my Lord and Savior. I've been His child for almost 62 years now. Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus.
John 6:44 - (Jesus said) "No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up on the last day."
Luke 19:10 -- "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Do you have Jesus as your Lord and Savior? If not, I know He's looking for you. He loves you and wants to put you back together, too.
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