The Devil went Down to Texas . . .

Renae Brumbaugh Green

Parenting is hard.

 

It’s peel-an-apple-with-a-butter-knife hard.

 

Climb-Mount-Everest-in-your-prom-shoes hard.

 

Lose-twenty-pounds-in-December hard.

 

Every day, I wonder if I’m doing it right (which I’m not) and I pray a lot (which helps with the fact that I’m quite sure I’m doing it wrong).

 

But every once in a while, your child makes you so dang proud, and you realize all the hard parts were worth it, just to arrive at this moment.

 

This is not one of those moments.

 

But there are also moments when parenting brings you such joy, simply because it’s downright comical, what kids will do.

 

The man-cub plays in the church orchestra on Sunday mornings. Guitar, usually, but sometimes he plays the drums. Last Sunday, it was guitar. He sits against the wall, behind the pianist, in the shadows. A live camera records the service and projects it onto the screen, so those sitting in the back can see, and so those at home can watch live. The link is later posted on the church website, so anyone in the world can go back and watch it. Again and again. And again.

 

I love that we have live music. I love that our church gives musicians – some great, some mediocre – the chance to use their gifts. But every once in a blue moon, when the choir sings a difficult special, we’ll use a recording. The orchestra always plays along with the recording to give it a fuller sound, but sometimes, there’s just no competing with a Nashville-level professional playing a guitar riff.

 

The song was titled “Count Your Blessings” and featured a Devil-Went-Down-to-Georgia level guitar solo. This is where it gets good.

 

You see, since recorded music is rare in our church, and since the orchestra plays along with the recording, the audience isn’t always aware they’re listening to canned music. Man-cub, standing in the back, in the shadows, was really getting into the song . . . but he knew his guitar skills weren’t quite up to Nashville level yet. So he unplugged his guitar and proceeded to jam out.

 

Oh, he wasn’t Elvis or Liberace or anything like that. He was trying to be subtle, which ended up giving him that subdued, I-could-play-this-in-my-sleep kind of vibe. He looked like a seasoned guitar veteran.

 

Little did he know, he was on camera. He said he looked up from his guitar to find people all over the sanctuary staring at him, jaws dropped. The pretty girl on the second row gave him the thumbs-up. So he did the only thing he knew to do: he nodded graciously and went back to playing his guitar.

 

From my vantage point in the choir, I couldn’t see any of this. After church, people swarmed me. “Was that your son playing the guitar? Wow. He’s good!”

 

Of course I smiled. Nodded. Agreed. I was so proud.

 

Later, on the way home, I asked if he’d had a solo I didn’t know about. That’s when the Cheshire-cat grin grew to a chuckle, to a cackle, to Mad-Hatter hysteria.

 

And that’s when the mom-panic ensued. “What did you do?” I asked.

 

“I can’t tell you.”

 

“Oh yes you can, young man. What did you do?”

 

(Catches breath.) “Mom, if I tell you, you have to understand up front that it wasn’t on purpose. And you have to promise not to tell anybody. Ever.”

 

(Just for the record, I made no such promise.)

 

So there you have it, my friends. Proof that things aren’t always as they seem. And proof that kids are stinkin’ hilarious.

 

Sometimes I think I know the truth about something, but I really don’t have a clue. I’ve been impressed with people who were really just putting on a show. And I’ve been unimpressed with others who, when the layers were peeled back, turned out to be superstars where it counts.

 

It’s been a good reminder to me that judging isn’t in my job description, because frankly, I’m not very good at it. My job is to love people. Period.

 

That boy brightens my world so much I call him my sun son, and it doesn’t matter what kinds of antics or shenanigans he pulls. I’m always going to love him, and I’m always going to be glad I’m his mom. And I need to love others, too, even when I learn something about them isn’t as it seemed.

 

I’m so glad God loves me that way.

 

Oh, and while we’re on the topic of loving-not-judging, please contact me if you know of a good guitar teacher. Somebody’s got a lot of practicing to do, if he’s gonna keep up appearances.

 

“God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart,” 1 Samuel 16:7.