Personally Speaking--Part 2
So I was off to Philadelphia in search of fame, fortune, and forgetting. After my attempted suicide, it seemed like a tremendous weight was lifted, but I still knew I had a long way to go. After much searching and many auditions, I finally found the perfect match of musicians and the band was up and running. We met with a fair amount of success in the world's eyes, but deep inside I still felt the pain of a past life.
The lead singer arranged another one of those blind dates. I decided to go just for something to do. I had already decided that I would have a lousy time and I certainly wasn't interested in any long term relationships. 32 years later I'm still on that date, but now she's my wife. Wonderful!--but there were still many major problems that had to be worked through.
As a rock musician I learned to live the life of a rocker. All that rock claims is true--from drug overdoses to deviate perverts to satanic rituals. I've even heard Christians try to justify rock music, but take it from one that's been there. There's nothing Christian about it. There's nothing God-glorifying about it. it's wicked through and through.
The more the band grew and developed, the more sin I found myself involved with, and the more guilt I felt. The more guilt I felt, the more I turned to sin to ease the guilt. Can you say, "Catch-22?".It was my wife that paid the ultimate price. Even though she also embraced the rock-n-roll lifestyle, my ups and downs were weighing heavy upon her. Still, God doesn't let His children get away easy.
My wife gave birth my son, but at the time I had more important things to be involved with, or so I thought. Slowly the band began to fall apart. Internal problems and personality conflicts (which is also a part of the lifestyle) brought the band to an end, but not my dreams. I continued to audition musicians to start again. After months of different personnel changes, frustration finally got the best of me. I was on another downhill slide and couldn't stop. God seemed so far away, but yet I felt like He was trying to speak to me. Why wouldn't I listen?
Frustration consumed me. In my thinking, to walk away from the music business meant that I had failed as a person. The only self-worth I had came from my guitar. Without it, I felt like nothing. The peace and acceptance I sought from music was no longer there. Even music had rejected me. Who was I? What was I really about? Was I really so shallow as to base my existence on how well I played guitar? The questions kept coming. There were considerably fewer answers.
The pressures of life began to mount again. Without the income from the band, financial pressures began to build--pressures that spilled over into every aspect of my life and marriage. What little hope I had was quickly fading. But through all the dark nights somehow, someway, I was conscious of that still, small voice that kept calling. If I could only face myself and listen!
Part 3 is on the way.
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