I have a confession to make.
Thirty years ago I broke into a church. Regularly.
My friend and I discovered that on Monday afternoons the church premises was unoccupied, and so we hatched a cunning plan.
After the evening church service concluded, one of us would arrange that an inconspicuous window at the back of the building be left unlatched. The following day (Monday), we would excuse ourselves from highschool for a class or two and we would…
1. Amble to church.
2. Slip through the pre-prepared unlatched window.
3. Turn on sound system (which was accessed by climbing the auditorium wall to the mezzanine floor).
4. Proceed to play the musical instruments – other people’s musical instruments (The Fender Jazz Bass was my go-to).
Steps 1-4 repeated for several weeks until the Powers-that-be became aware of the mysterious enterings and sadly our afternoon 2-piece-band practices came to an abrupt end.
I was asked if I knew how the scuff-marks came to be on the auditorium wall or who owned the converse basketball boots that caused them.
I knew nothing.
I denied everything.
People sometimes ask me how I learned to play various instruments and how I began on the road to becoming a church worship-leader.
God works in mysterious ways.