Finding the Tone: When "Fine" Isn't in Tune
TL;DR: I had the career, the gear, and the home—but the music of my life was out of key. It took returning to a daily walk with Jesus to realize I wasn't looking for a new hobby or a better instrument; I was looking for the Conductor.
For a long time, the music of my life felt thin. On the surface, the "composition" looked solid. God had already blessed me with my soulmate, Rachel—my anchor and the melody that makes everything else make sense. But even with that foundation, I felt adrift. I was going through the motions, but I couldn't find the resonance.
Searching in the Wrong Octave
I spent years thinking this emptiness was a practical problem. I thought maybe I needed a different career path or the next piece of gear—a faster computer, a better phone, or a new instrument to spark some inspiration.
The strange thing is, I eventually found a job I genuinely like. I work in a hospital now, and I actually look forward to the day. But even with that shift, the "missing note" remained. I finally had to admit the truth: the job wasn't the issue. It was never the missing piece.
The Silence Between the Notes
Here is the part that’s hard to say out loud: I’m a Christian. I’ve believed in the sacrifice of Jesus since I was a kid. But for a long time, I wasn't walking with Him.
I wasn't praying. I wasn't opening the Word. I had the "sheet music" of faith, but I wasn't playing the song. I think God allowed that unrest to settle in my chest—that holy uneasiness—to guide me back to the practice of His presence. We can be stubborn, thinking we can "engineer" our way out of a soul-deep ache with new technology or hobbies. But you can't find peace in a gadget. It only comes through a daily, intentional relationship with the Lord.
The Daily Practice: Prayer and Presence
I’m only a couple of weeks into this "new" start. I’m back to the basics: morning devotionals, honest prayer, and simply asking for His help.
It feels like the first time I’ve breathed deeply in years. I’m more centered. I’m finding that "quiet, intentional life" I talk about here on the blog. I don't know the full score yet—I’m still figuring out what God has planned—but I am deeply thankful that He’s allowed me to pick up the instrument and start the walk again.
Acceptance and the "Unworthy" Static
The hardest part of this journey is the feeling of being unworthy.
- Unworthy of a spouse like Rachel.
- Unworthy of a job I enjoy.
- Unworthy of the grace poured out on the Cross.
Grace is a difficult concept for a man who likes to fix things. We want to earn our keep. But I’m learning that this walk isn’t about proving I’m "good enough" to be in the room. It’s about trusting the work He already finished.
Good Friday: The Breaking Point
This past Good Friday, the "theology" finally became "reality." I was walking through the hospital halls, earbuds in, listening to “Rugged Cross” by Ben Fuller.
In that moment, I stopped fighting. The Holy Spirit broke through the noise, and I just wept. The weight of what Christ suffered—the sheer, staggering love of it—hit me in a way I’ve never felt before. I know I’m not worthy, and I know I’ll struggle with that feeling again tomorrow. But I’m taking it one step at a time.
Looking Forward, Playing On
It’s easy to look back at the "lost" years and wonder what could have been. But I’m choosing to believe that God is the Master of timing. He moves with us when we are finally ready to listen.
So, I’m walking. My goal is to get closer to Him, to find the warmth in the kitchen, the beauty in the music, and the truth in His Word. If you’ve ever felt lost even when life looked "fine," you aren’t alone. Maybe it’s time to stop looking for more "things" and start looking for the daily rhythm of His grace.