The last refrain 

No where in a music score does it tell a listener how to react properly. When you read music as you play it’ll cue your brain to manipulate the instrument that you are playing into crescendos or fortissimo or some other type of expression, but it doesn’t give the listener any cues as to how the music will affect their heart.  It’s up to you the musician to put  passion and voice into the music to make it memorable for the listener. 

He was the former band director of our little school in Iowa, and he passed away in a bike accident a few short days ago. Last night as I sat in the hot gym I sat with  his friends and family as we listened to speeches, scriptures and songs given in honor of a man who devoted his life to the art of making sure the listener listened to the music being played. 

His friend spoke of times they adventured. His oldest daughter spoke of his love for doing small things everyday to master anything.  Love poured out of the lifelong friend who sang “Bourning Cry.” Then there was a band, 40 steller musicians that offered their time and talent to honor the legacy of a man who had touched them in some way. 

I listened to the music played by this all star band made up of former students, colleagues, and lifelong friends and my heart captured a glimpse of deeper things that happen when one gives their time to play in a band. The diligence of practice that must occur. The friendships that form between people who play the same instument. The sheer grit it takes sometimes to get through learning a new song or instrument. And for this band specifically, it was the beauty of many parts making something amazing together to honor a man who knew God consistently, loved his family emmensly, and gave over 30 years of his life to the art of making music in the local school. 

Mr Dahn, you’ll be missed by this community you called home. You’ll be missed by generations of band students you so patiently guided and lead over your years as band director, but most importantly your life will be missed by a whole host of people that you encouraged excellence from simply because your passion for great music was contagious. 


words. round two.


There are words in your life that you carry with you. Words spoken over you by those close to you. Words that hurt you to the core. Words that echo their venom inside your brain. Words that create havoc on your heart and stunt your relationship with the One who speaks Truth.  You carry these words close, perhaps using them as a shield to hide behind the hurt they have caused. Laughter and joking about how you aren’t trusted to use your own words in public. Then God says. It’s time to change this behavior. I silently vow to never say no to an offer to speak in public again.

He asked. I said yes… without feeling the impact of those three letter words until the morning of.  Lies don’t die easily.

How much easier it was to talk to 500 folks about my mom 7 months ago?

How much easier it was to affirm a fellow friend on a smaller stage just a month ago?

God orchestrated those prior asks and my prior yes’s, to lead me to the day when a senior pastor would hand me a mic and say

“I trust you.”

Truth.  I smile because the blessing of those words sink deep into my soul. Washing the filth of the past clean and creating a new place of peace. In the scope of the world it wasn’t a huge deal, but in my own heart I claimed a victory.

You Satan, might have won the first battle, but we are in a war you jerk.. and round two goes to God.