G is for GUITAR

I spotted it in a music shop, more noted for selling sheet music than instruments. Appropriately, it was called a Hi Spot and it cost me seven pounds and ten shillings of my hard-earned pocket money along with a book simply called 'Teach Yourself Guitar.' This, I attempted, but the book was much too advanced and its classical approach didn't endear a young ten year old who only wanted to play chords and sing 'If you're going to San Francisco.' Mum, managed to discover a young woman who sang a bit and played the guitar and she persuaded Hilary to give me lessons. The first one started so well. She showed me how to hold the guitar, a few simple chords and even taught me how to strum along to one or two choruses we sang in church. Then she left. Forty years later, I'm still waiting for my second lesson! Anyway, the guitar did the job, though I reckon no prospective learner would be happy to begin on it now, for its high action didn't make holding chords a painless operation. But I learnt on it and used it in church and when my sister and I sang together.

Then one day I got hold of a musical instrument catalogue from a company called Bells, somewhere in England. I spent nights drooling over the guitars on its pages and set my heart on an Egmond twelve string. For months, I saved up and eventually had the thirty five or so pounds that I needed. Mum got me a postal order with it and we sent the it off to the company. Some days later, a large, odd shaped cardboard box arrived and inside was a beautiful sunburst instrument with that lovely smell of newness and polished to perfection. I fell in love. Every night, it went back into its plastic bag and then to bed in the box and for years it did the job as we sang at different events.

BY the time I was reaching my later teens, I became more intrigued by the guitars that you plugged a lead into. I longed to be able to imitate what I heard on Top of the Pops, to play barre chords and to pick out tunes, none of which was easy to do on a twelve string. Our ambitions to form a group probably forced me more quickly in that direction than I had intended and before long I was shelling out more dosh on a beautiful Jedson sunburst electric guitar, complete with white pick guard and a small amp. To be honest, it was pretty much rubbish, for you don't get much quality for twenty pounds, but I guess at the time the player wasn't ready for anything better! But it did the job too. Some time later I exchanged it for another electric that was more pleasing on the eye, but it obviously didn't make much of an impression for I can't even remember its make.

Since that time, I 've managed to acquire better instruments and can now choose whether I want to play a Fender Telecaster, Stratocaster or a Gibson Les Paul and, like many other guitar enthusiasts, I've hoarded a few decent acoustics along the way too, including a little Martin Backpacker that's great for travelling. And they all do the job. But fro me, there has only ever been one Hi Spot and even though it was rough, poorly made and sounded like a tin can, without it, I might never have gone on to enjoy the guitar so much nor indeed find it such a helpful instrument to use in God's service. And I still have it. These days it resides in an old outside shed up at my mum and dad's home and though the neck is much further from the body than it was in its playing days and the strings and bridge hang loosely from one end, I'll never throw it away, for it carries too many memories - of Sunday afternoon chorus sessions on the good room settee, of helping to lead the chorus singing at CE, of duets with my sister in different churches, of my only guitar lesson and of a little shop in Portadown that is long gone. Mind you, I wouldn't use it now.

I suppose we all have things in our life that we can look back at with fondness. Something that might have been the beginning of a journey, that seemed difficult at the time but has brought its rewards in personal satisfaction. Many of us have a some stage started the journey with God, but when something else has come along, we have craved for that more and our original love has been left aside and viewed with only memories of long ago but with no real intention to return to that point in our lives. It's sad, but my path has crossed so many lives whose enthusiasm and initial desire to develop their relationship with Jesus has floundered as life throws up new experiences and opportunities. It always brings me back to the parable of the sower and the seed that fell among thorns. Jesus tells us 'The one who received the seed that fell among the thorns is the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful.' I don't want to be unfruitful for God but I know the moment I start to neglect Him, is the moment my life comes apart - a bit like my first guitar.

On Saturday, I bought a new set of strings and while the old ones are OK , even a non-enthusiast hears the difference they'll make when the instrument is restrung and retuned. Maybe we all need to 'restring and retune' our lives to His purpose more often. I guess that's when we realise what we've been missing.