It was January 2008, the last day of my Christmas break at home before I had to head back to school for the spring semester. Normally I was eager to get back, but this particular time it was the last thing I wanted. I knew what awaited me when I got there. I’ll never forget that gut-wrenching feeling of anticipation.
It had only been a few days since I had visited my girlfriend in her hometown of Memphis for New Year’s. We had been going through a bit of a rough patch, but during my trip it seemed we had smoothed things over. External stress was getting the best of us, and she made the point that we had too much invested to let things end - we would just make some positive changes.
She was right, though, we did have a lot invested. I had recently left my place as president of our campus ministry because she couldn’t get along with the rest of the leadership. Not only that, I left the ministry entirely at the request of her father. This was a big deal because before our relationship, ministry had become my life, and my friends in that ministry were my family. It’s even where I met her.
Beyond this I had changed my major from English to secondary education so I could get a job as soon as I graduated while she continued her education. If you hadn’t picked up on this now we were definitely in the “talking” phase when it came to engagement. I had even started shopping for a ring. I had sacrificed my position in leadership, my friendships, and my major for this girl because I was absolutely convinced that this is who God wanted me to marry. It was as if I had staked my entire reputation on it - that I had tied this relationship to my very faith, itself.
A week of total silence went by after my trip to Memphis. There were no answers to texts or calls. With each passing day, reality sunk in more and more. I remember when the day finally came to go back to school, I just kept praying that she’d at least give me one last chance to talk it through. As I sat in a chair in my parents living-room trying to hold back my emotions, my four-year-old niece, Charleigh, walked up to me with a stuffed bear and a hand-drawn picture of us.
“Don’t be sad, Unka Jay. When you get sad just look at this picture,” she said.
Now I was really fighting the tears. I tried to hand the bear back to her and said, “I’m not taking your bear.”
“You need it more than me,” she said.
I couldn’t argue with her logic, so I took the bear and the picture and made my way back to campus. It was on the drive there when I finally got a text from my girlfriend which simply asked me to meet her at her dorm.
I met her there, and the inevitable happened. I was in such a haze that I don’t even remember the conversation. It was over, and in that moment I was dealt one of the most crushing and humbling blows of my life.
It wasn’t just that the relationship was over and I had lost the person I thought I loved at the time - it was everything I sacrificed in order to keep the relationship going. I was only a couple of years removed from being delivered from years of depression. The first two years of college for me were defined by failure and reclusiveness. I felt like my life had my no purpose or value. It wasn’t until I found Jesus that I had any sense of either.
It was then I found purpose in ministry. A recluse with no passion, I became a totally new person. I was driven to see others delivered from depression - for the forgotten to feel loved and appreciated. I made a lot of great friends through the campus ministry I was involved with, and I got so plugged-in and involved that I quickly became part of the leadership. It was truly the first time in my life I felt like I had direction and was happy.
That was all short-lived, though, as I got consumed in a relationship for the wrong reasons. My newly found confidence gave way to arrogance and pride. My desire to lead made me a control-freak and paranoid. Through these things I slowly burned bridges and began making irrational decisions. I ignored the wisdom and warnings from my friends and peers, and I lead myself down a path of self-destruction.
These thoughts didn’t leave my mind for two solid weeks. I drifted off in my classes thinking about my mistakes and my situation. I would go home and lay on my couch and cry. I felt like I was in a black hole. I thought I had escaped depression. In fact, I remembered the numerous times in prayer, in total confidence, that I would declare my victory over depression.
I began to wonder if it was all a lie.
At the end of those two tormented weeks, I received a call from a friend back in my hometown. He wanted to get dinner to catch up. My socially-starved self of course accepted the offer and I met him on a Friday night. There we just chatted. I talked some about the break-up but didn’t get too deep as I didn’t want to be a downer. When we finished our meal, he asked me if I wanted to “jam” with him and another friend at his church.
I had about 10 years of drumming experience at the time, both in high school marching band and on the drumset. Most recently I had drummed for my campus ministry, where ironically my now ex-girlfriend has been the worship leader. It had been months since I had played, though; so, the prospect of playing some was very exciting to me. I figured, if nothing else, it would be a nice distraction for a couple of hours.
There was nothing special about the couple of hours we played around. It took me half of the time to get the rust off, and we mainly just played through worship songs we all knew, with the occasional freestyle jam-session. As we were just wrapping up, I looked over at an older, upright piano that was nearby.
The piano had always been my favorite instrument, and I always had a desire to play it, but I never made an attempt to learn. In that moment, I decided to go over and “piddle around” with it before we left for the night. If nothing else, I just liked to hear the way the keys sounded when we pressed the sustain pedal.
As I started to play, I would press keys and the sustain at the same time, making echoing notes. I then started hitting two keys at once, and then on. I carried on for a few minutes when I noticed an odd silence coming from my friends.
“Are you listening to yourself?” one friend asked.
“No. Why?” I replied.
“You’re playing chords. You said you didn’t know how to play the piano, right?” he asked.
“No (laughing). I’m just messing around,” I replied.
“Well, it looks like you do now,” he said while pulling out his phone. “Keep playing. I’ll show you.”
I continued to play the progression of chords on the piano, unaware of their significance or aesthetic quality as he recorded. After a couple of minutes I stopped, and he played the recording back to me. I wouldn’t say I was in disbelief, it was more as if I was in “awe” or “wonder” of what I had just heard. A peace came over me - one I hadn’t felt in a while, one I desperately needed in that moment in time.
The following week I purchased my own keyboard with what little money I saved up for an engagement ring and began to practice and write music at home. Within a week a had learned and was able to play every chord on the piano and was writing my own music. This is when another incredible thing happened.
One week after the initial discovery, my friends wanted to see if lightning would strike twice; so, we go to “jam” again, this time I only play the piano, and this time they stick a live microphone in front of me. Now, if you knew me back then, you’d know that I never sang. I didn’t even sing to myself, in the shower, in the car, nowhere. I had never sang before, but, once again, something crazy happened. As I was playing through that same chord progression that I first played the week before, words came to me and I decided to let them go. Once again, my friends recorded it and played it back for me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing - I couldn’t believe it was me. My friend even pointed out that I had vibrato when I sang. For someone who never sang in front of anyone, for anyone, not even for himself - it was so surreal.
After this, I continued to practice and grow in both singing and playing piano. Also, I was welcomed back to my old campus ministry and I was even able to help fill a void as a worship leader. I would go on to lead at several churches and ministries over the years, and even had one full-time job at a church in my hometown after college.
Some people would call these things talents, but to me, they were gifts, or perhaps some type of awakening within me at a time in my life when I needed it. My life didn’t magically get better after all of this. I still dealt with depression, despair, even suicidal thoughts almost daily; however, my new found gifts helped me get through this time. I had something to focus my attention on. It gave me confidence and new direction and hope in my life. Through music I felt like I was able to grow closer to God, in a more real and intimate way. I let my prayers and my hearts cry be heard through my music, and through that honesty I began to slowly heal.
In the end, this isn’t a story about how I learned how to play the piano, this is a story about how I learned that I already could.