There are some Sunday mornings when I am not a happy camper. In fact, that would be most Sunday mornings. I am not a morning person at.all. so getting up and being coherent and in a good mood tends to be a little difficult. This last Sunday, though, I was super happy. I'd gotten an extra hours sleep (I am such a fan of the fall back time change), the rain was a soothing sound in my ears all night, I had gotten myself together soon enough to get coffee before Worship Team warm-up and we were sounding pretty good as a team.
We had laughed with the couple who came in at 10 after 8 wondering where everyone was for the worship service and after being reminded of the time changed pronounced "But nobody told us!" We had laughed with the kids racing around the Sanctuary and my wonderful friend Norm had even found a moment to work on the huge knot that I call a shoulder.
Then the worship service started. Everything was going along swimmingly until the 2nd song One moment I'm playing the next minute I'm desperately trying to hold on to my guitar. At first I thought I had lost a string (which has happened before) and looked wide eyed at Meg standing next to me to see if it had whapped her but no, apparently the strap on my guitar decided that NOW would be the time come loose and just gave way. Being ever the professional that I am, I continued to play, albeit very quietly and sing through the rest of the song while holding the guitar, while standing up. Not an easy feat.
Of course we were supposed to go right into the next song and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to make that happen, so we spontaneously had a "meet and greet" session while I retied the strap to my guitar and prayed that it would hold!
It was as I was in the back of the sanctuary later double checking the strap and trying to figure out what had happened, that I realized my pick was missing. I then had to leave the sanctuary to go shake my guitar to get the pick out from the inside of the guitar. My happy morning had quickly disintegrated and yet it really wasn't that bad. In fact, it makes a for a good story and a gentle reminder that even on the best of mornings things can go wrong.
1 comment:
Isn't getting "whapped" by a guitar string, or hit by a drum stick...a right of passage? Whap away, Dearie. =)
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