Playing and praying

Recently, my oldest son, B, asked me if I would teach him how to play the guitar.  We sat down and I showed him a single chord.  I watched as he struggled to form the chord.  I remember learning to play the guitar.  I recall how unnatural it felt to coax the fingers on my left hand to form a D chord.  The thud, thud, thud of the strings indicating I was not pressing down firmly enough.  I remember how it hurt the tips of my fingers when I pressed harder.  When I finally got everything positioned and pressed such that it sounded sort of okay, I was loathe to change it.  Switching to another chord meant redoing the ordeal from the start.  Learning to play the guitar was a tedious process.

You can't really play a song when each chord change involves a lengthy pause.  It's like going for a walk and having to wait for the light at every intersection.  It can be an exhausting and frustrating experience.  Still, that time between the pauses gave me hope.  For a brief moment, with my fingers clamped in place, I could enjoy the song.

Eventually, I learned the chords and trained my fingers so that I could play without thinking about the mechanics.  The strings don't hurt my fingertips anymore, the callouses take care of that.  I still sometimes come across a chord that's unfamiliar.  When this happens, I take the time to practice and learn the chord (or I play a different song).  I can't enjoy the music if my focus is on the mechanics.  That's one of the reasons I practice - so I won't get tripped up so much.

Sometimes I think about faith and prayer in this light.  My wife and I attend church regularly with our sons.  My youngest son spends most of the time drawing pictures.  I'm not particularly distressed about this.  His older brother used to do the same thing but now participates in the service.  Both are still learning some of the fundamental mechanics related to how we express our faith.  Just being there, in the pew, is good enough for now.

Praying has always been a little difficult for me.  I tend to overthink it.  One minute I'm praying and the next I'm thinking about how I'm praying, or wondering if I'm praying or just thinking, or wondering if there's a difference between thinking and praying.  It's an indication that I'm still learning the mechanics, I guess.  Instead of playing the song, I'm thinking about how to make the chords.  Thankfully, prayer is a conversation and not a performance.  I am not acting alone.  God is there, anticipating my actions, knowing what's in my heart even when I can't form it in my mind.