callused confessions

Today I played my guitar for the first time since about March. I am not certain that you can really classify it as “playing.” I’m not a musically inclined individual. I just get bored very easily. Last Christmas I asked for a guitar because I had lots of free time and wanted to teach myself something new.

It was going well. I printed off tabs for songs, my brother offered advice, and my friend Levi tried to train me as his all-star prodigy. (It was really just a half-hearted attempt to play a difficult rift he wrote on an electric guitar.) I was a promising student for the sole purpose that I was determined. I hate doing things I am not good at, so I was determined to be good at guitar before it was all said and done.

And today . . . I picked up my guitar for the first time in 8 months. Yep, that’s some kind of determination. I’m destined to be amazing.

After playing for about 30 minutes, my fingertips felt like the strings were slicing through them. I pushed through for a little while, but was forced to retire the guitar momentarily. However, I had hope. Hope that the next time i play it won’t hurt as bad. I will be able to play for longer and longer each time because the calluses will form where my soft fingertips once were. It may not be the most attractive or comfortable thing, but it will enable me to move forward. The pain it takes to form the calluses is necessary to push me past where I am.

The pain is essential for forward progression.

That’s where I’m at in my guitar-playing endeavor and life. I am faced with painful decisions that I must make; however, the pain is essential for forward progression. I must be okay with letting Christ use my weakest points for His glory.

I’m pushing forward and carrying on in hopes of living a life that is a beautiful song of praise to my Creator.


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