More Glimpses

Glimpses

(written by Harley Castleberry)

Sometimes I Feel Like A Failure

Do you know what I mean?

From my early teens I have admired the talents and work of great craftsmen.  I’m not talking the “old masters,” but refer to those with whom we intermingle as we journey through life.  By way of self analysis, I consider myself as being blessed with the curse of being a perfectionist. If you are not afflicted in like, or similar manner, that statement will likely carry little meaning for you.  Don’t lie awake worrying about it.

Earlier this evening, my wife and I viewed another Gaither Homecoming Hour on television.  From time to time, Bill Gaither spotlights one of his “regulars,” and interviews them on the program.  Tonight’s program recognized Anthony Berger, the group’s pianist.  Anthony is a marvelous musician.  “Marvelous” is spelled  f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c !  In addition to that, he seems to be a very humble individual who strives to serve the Lord with his talents.  For those who might not know, “talents” is spelled,  p-r-a-c-t-i-c-e,  p-r-a-c-t-i-c-e,  p-r-a-c-t-i-c-e.  Anthony is energetic as he plays, but does not “grandstand,” and look toward the audience (or camera) for praise or approval as he plays
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For me to see, hear, or witness the handiwork of a great craftsman, a feeling develops within my chest that is hard to explain.  My spirit is filled with awe, and I am struck with wonder and amazement.  As a result, shortly thereafter I look at my efforts and I sometimes feel like a failure.  Why is it that we have this tendency to compare ourselves to others?  I have to get hold of myself and remind me of whom I am, and who made me.  There is no other like Him and there is no other like me.  God equipped me with all the “basic ingredients” necessary to become what He designed me to be, and to serve Him in that capacity.  If we all possessed the same talents, we would be in one fine mess!  But why is it that I don’t have just a small slice of the musical talent that Anthony Berger posses?

On my mother’s side of the family, her dad played the “fiddle” as they were known in those days.  You probably wouldn’t find may violins on farms back in his day – or at rural dances and get-togethers.  And, his son, my mother and her sister were musicians.  My uncle and mother both studied violin in college and my aunt somehow just had guitar skills in her DNA.

Have you had the experience of growing up in a home where at least one of the parents knows music, and is determined to pass that on to their children?  Let me ask it another way.  Did you spend much time in combat as a child?  Music being such a natural thing in the blood-line, my mother decided to pass those artistic skills on to me.  (Being the eldest child could be compared with being an “experimental” model.)  She started me off on the piano.  Some afternoons after school, I’d spend a month at the keyboard.  That’s probably an exaggeration.  But it seemed longer than that.  After many, many months of agony, I may have been on the brink of attaining a wonderful skill – playing by ear.  From the other room would come my mother’s voice, “You’re not reading the music – you’re playing by ear.”  Actually, I fooled her.  I was not playing by ear because I couldn’t carry a tune in an armored car (and I still can’t.)  Oh, to be outside in the sunshine fighting WWII with my friends!  It was about this time that my mother decided to teach me to dance.  Now this I got the hang of pretty quick!  Since I was of the age to still be wearing short pants in the summer months, I was already in costume.  The training went exactly like this:  She and I would go into the bathroom, so that my younger brother and sister would not steal my dance routine, and then mother would apply a supple elm switch across the back of my legs.  I immediately was motivated to dance with high, and sometimes leaping steps, and I always became so moved by what I had just learned that tears of emotion still filled my eyes as I returned to the piano keyboard to read directly from the music.  Each new summer season brought fourth a new supply of elm switches, but alas, my talent for dancing was no better than my piano playing.  I learned the basic steps, but never moved farther than that.  At my first option, I elected to stay with long pants regardless of the season or the outside temperature.  I might add that long pants were poor armor when my dad found it necessary to readjust my attitude with his razor strap.

My sister did fair with the piano and ended up playing the flute in high school and college bands.  My brother played the French horn.  Me?  I stuck with the radio – while continuing to wear long pants.  The musical DNA hit squarely on our eldest son who learned the trombone and ended up playing lead guitar and keyboard.  He is still quite active with music as a hobby and he and a friend occasionally play for various groups.

I certainly don’t feel shorted on talents.  I feel that I have been given many talents and being “blessed with the curse of being a perfectionist, I occasionally end up with a finished product that “almost” pleases me.  In spite of my imperfections, Christ died for me anyway.

For ten years in a row (1980-1989), Anthony Berger was designated #1 Musician (Keyboard Player) by Singing News Magazine.  Personally, I don’t see how he was awarded that designation.  I say that because seeing him on TV, it seems that there are just barely enough keys on a full size piano for him to do his magic.  I would think that a typical electronic keyboard would have greatly hampered him.

I have spoken of Anthony in the present tense.  Eternal Life starts at the moment we ask Christ to come into our life.  On February 22, 2006, Mr. Berger was performing with Bill and Gloria Gaither and the Homecoming Friends on a cruise ship in the Caribbean, and while playing We Shall Behold Him, he suffered an apparent heart attack and was escorted into the presence of God Himself.  If they were holding auditions for a pianist in Heaven, no one else need apply.

Anthony Berger was 44 years of age.

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”  Matthew 5:16

Author’s Disclaimer:
For those readers who may still be trying to get their breaths and pulse rates under control as a result of my mention of elm switches and razor straps – my parents were not mean.  I never received a beating.  I never received a spanking that I didn’t deserve. They taught me to be polite and considerate of others, and their belongings – to be sympathetic and helpful to others – to live up to what you say – to respect my elders – to learn of God, and to be reverent in His house. My parents did the best that they knew to do, and my growth was not stunted as a result.  I was seldom in “trouble” - until I got married and tried to wash some of my wife’s “things” along with the regular laundry.  I continue to wear long pants,  I now know what to wash, and also what not to wash.  My mother will be 100 years old in October and she is still putting finishing touches on me.  Thank goodness the elm trees are gone!

Harley