Draw from the Deep Steadiness of God

A percussionist at heart, I was taught to pound the ivories. Dad was never happy when I played the piano at church unless the piano was shaking. Every head bowed and every eye closed was replaced with every toe tapping and every heart pulsing. “Louder,” he would say. “Put some Christy into it.”

In college, my piano professor taught me a physics lesson.

“Relax your arms,” he would say, and he would shake my arm until it felt limp. “Swing your arms high and let all of the potential energy drop into the end of your fingertips.” When I went back home for summer break, people in church noticed the difference. They could feel it. Literally, they could feel the percussion of the piano hammers on strings.

Whenever I walk into church feeling low, head hanging in suffering, it’s often the drummer who ministers most to my spirit. The kick drum preaches.

Steady.

Steady.

Steady.

Steady.

No matter what craziness dance the drummer is doing with sticks in his hand, with crashing symbols or clanks against the rim of the snare, the kick beat resonates with a precise underlying rhythm.

Steady.

Steady.

Steady.

Steady.

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me,” sings the psalmist. (Psalm 42:7) The deep consistency of God calls to my deepest needs of my soul through the kick.

I am always with you.

I am always with you.

I am always with you.

I am always with you.

The percussionist tethers the whole band to a reliable sound that comes up underneath all of the other instruments. In the same way, God does this for our souls with his steady love, steady kindness, steady help.

When everything feels out of control, listen for it: the heart-thumping, consistent nature of God that undergirds the song that is your life.