by Justin Murphy and Maddie McSweeney
Embedded Files
published 11/1/19
A Servant's Heart by Justin Murphy
A Servant's Heart by Justin Murphy
Singing in front of 150 people without preparation was not exactly how I envisioned making my singing debut. I had been wanting to sing at my church for a while by this point, but this was not how I envisioned it. Standing on stage, bass in hand and microphone glaring at me, I risked my pride and reputation as soon as I uttered the first words. As I sang the lyrics off of the trusty iPad in front of me, I tried my best to make my slightly above-average singing skills resonate in the sanctuary.
I had played the bass at my church for a year prior to that critical day in March. If you are familiar with playing bass in a band, you would know that it isn't the most important part of the whole ensemble, by far. In fact, it is probably the least important: a disposable component behind the guitar, drums, keyboard, and vocalists. My sister, on the other hand, is a gifted singer. For the year I solely played bass, I watched from the shadows as my sister received praise for her voice and her stage presence while my bass playing went seemingly unnoticed.
As the service went on and I continued to sing impromptu on stage, I basked in the glory of being noticed and appreciated. This is what I had wanted, right? To make a statement and prove my worth to the congregation? As I continued to receive compliments and adoration, I couldn't help but soak it all up. Then, an idea formed in the back of my mind, expanding like a wildfire: I'm doing this all wrong.
I don't need to be the lead singer in life to reach those in need. Being in the spotlight isn't necessary to use my gifts and abilities for the benefit of others. I spent so long thinking that I can have the greatest impact only if I grab a hold of the microphone. The microphone does help at times, but the true heart of a servant is to serve the community without seeking recognition for his or her actions. I have learned to be content with playing the bass in different areas of my life. I realized that I don't need to be a leader and spokesperson for every club, sport, activity, and committee I am in. I simply need to have a servant's heart and be content with my time and commitment going unnoticed. I can find my true reward in seeing the changed lives and opened hearts.
I no longer get nervous when I sing on stage, and I am no longer afraid to play in the background. I don't try to outperform those serving with me and I don't seek the praise and attention that comes with being a leader. As I become a more prominent member of my community at church and at school, I find myself becoming a leader and role model in the areas I invest myself in. What has changed between now and six months ago is why I do it. I don't serve to be commended or paid back; I serve to have the greatest impact I can on the lives of my peers and anyone who takes the time to listen to the bass.
Lessons By the Pond by Maddie McSweeney
Lessons By the Pond by Maddie McSweeney
In a moment, my brother and I went from frolicking happily in our new backyard to running around screaming in terror as a four-foot, two-inch round, brown snake with brown markings slithered through the grass, seemingly chasing us. Hearing our screams, my parents sprang into action. Mom scooped us up and brought us safely onto the deck.
“Stay right there and don’t move,” she said to Ryan and me, while my dad trapped the snake under a cardboard box left over from the move into our new home.
Immediately, my mother began looking up the different types of snakes found in rural New Hampshire as my dad attempted to assure her it was nothing of concern. She determined the snake was a water snake, not poisonous but aggressive if provoked or trapped. But there the snake was trapped under a box.
“I am going to call New Hampshire Fish and Game,” Dad said as he raced for the phone.
After a brief conversation he informed us that they dispatched a conservation officer, who would be arriving shortly. When he arrived, he confirmed the species of the snake and mentioned it was aggressive. As he gently picked it up, he told my brother and me to follow him. We walked to the back corner of our yard to a clearing where a huge boulder sat, and we moved into the woods and continued to walk down the narrow path that had been cleared. My dad followed curiously while my mom stayed on the back deck calling after us, “Please be careful!”
Eventually, the path began to open up and all I could see was a beautifully tranquil pond glistening in the sunlight, lined with trees, spotted with huge boulders and a beaver dam. I was so awe struck that I hadn't realized that the officer had released the snake back into the water. All I could focus on was the discovery of the natural beauty and serenity that lay within the perimeter of our backyard.
In the years ahead, my father, my brother and I would visit the pond hundreds of times. The pond and the time I spent there have helped me understand that the greatest joys in life do not come from materialism or the accomplishments I achieve. They come from the beauty we recognize in our daily lives and the relationships we develop with the people we encounter. I recall the pond being especially beautiful in the fall, exploding with vibrant colors and natural beauty as the leaves changed. Not even the harsh New Hampshire winters with abundant snowfall could keep us away. Times like these made me appreciate the beauty and purpose in life, and that everything happens for a reason. Every time I visited the pond I felt a sense of serenity. During our trips to the pond, my dad would share stories of being in the woods with his dad and granddad and recounted the lessons he learned. The lessons that he shared with us helped me learn from him, and shaped me into the person I am today. He taught me to always stay humble and kind, and to pray for the negative people that I may come across in life.
Although, our family has since sold that home, the pond has always held a special place in my heart. It’s a place where so many lessons were learned and so many memories were created. Often times, when things get hectic and I begin to lose sight of what's truly important, I stop and think of my time at the pond. Every time I do, it helps me feel content and grateful, and those feelings allow me to remain focused and centered on the important things in life.
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