Maurice Andre was one of the best trumpet players the world has known. He once said that a good trumpet player had to be “like a matador in a bull ring.” He continued, “I see flutists and oboists go on the stage gingerly. If you do that with the trumpet you’re finished.” I believe he was saying that only a certain personality type possesses what it takes to succeed as a trumpet player. Trumpeters can’t hide; every note is heard by every listener! If you don’t have the God-given disposition to handle that, it can truly destroy you.
Docci maintains the property at a radio station where I work. He went to school for only a few years before his father forced him to work with the family’s cows. He eventually ran away to the city, where he found a job with a man who taught him a trade and about faith in Jesus. When Pastor Kevin, a dear friend of the radio station, died, the station manager employed Docci. Although Docci had very little education, the manager knew that the training Docci had received from Kevin made him a great asset.
One of my favorite lines in Donita K. Paul’s Realm Walkers book series is, “The called must call upon the caller.” I don’t usually pause to ponder wording in the middle of an action-packed book, but this line left me thinking about what it means to be called.
“And what do you do, Susan?” I asked over dinner. “Oh, not much,” she said. Approaching the question differently, I asked Susan what she’d done that week. Her answer made me feel exhausted!
Nicky Cruz was full of hatred and bitterness. His parents practiced witchcraft and mentally abused their son as he grew up in Puerto Rico. His mother even called him “Son of Satan.” Sent to live with his brother in New York City at age 15, Nicky soon joined a gang. His violent and cunning ways led to his becoming their warlord.
Poets have long used the seasons as metaphors for our lives. Spring is seen as a time of new beginnings and potential; summer is a time of growth and success; autumn is the harvest season when we reap the fruits of our labors; and winter is a time of endings and rest.
So many of us struggle to feel that our work—the ways we spend the majority of our time and the way we pay our bills—has lasting spiritual value. This is remarkable, given how often Scripture insists that everything we do matters to God.
When I signed up to become a chaplain in the British Royal Navy as a middle-aged man, the venture could have appeared to be a silly idea—something I should have never attempted. Surely I could have earned a living in a much safer and less strenuous environment. And yet, I felt compelled to pursue what I believe was God’s calling—choosing to rely on Him to strengthen me along the way.