I just don’t have it figured out. I don’t know what’s wrong with anything or anyone but me…for sure. But, of course, I have my theories.
What I hate is when a theory is given credence by experience. When that happens, cynicism gets fed, arrogance grabs the leash, and off we go together to punish the evil-doers.
On this last run of shows I stood on stage one night amazed as youth ministers stood up and lead their students out of the room. The music, they liked. The lights and sound, they dug. My mistake was simple. I stopped the “show” and said something like, “I don’t love music. I wake up in strange hotel rooms and leave my family for the weekend and drove all the way here because of what I get to tell you now. This is why I’m alive and I think it’s why you’re alive too…” And that’s when they bailed.
I’ve seen youth minsters do this at their national conferences too. A famous guy is singing, the lights swirling about him, the bass thumping a hole in every chest. Beach balls bounce around the arena. Grown men and women perform the modern day equivalent of “scratch another back next to you” and then… And then the music fades, a world-renowned speaker guy gets up – an inner city missionary or founder of some world relief organization or youth minster guru – and the crowd thins dramatically. Fun is over. I’m gone.
In the end, it doesn’t matter if we rock, learn or project with the best of them if we don’t love – if we don’t DO what we know about love. And that’s where I got my feelings hurt this weekend I suppose. It’s not DOing love to walk out on someone who’s sharing something he claims gives his life meaning.
What the students who left would have heard, had their chaperones let them stay and listen for seven more minutes, was what they’ve been saved for – not from. How they’ve been saved by God for saving others from evils like sickness and poverty. And I’d have offered them the chance to do what they know by saving a child through Compassion International. If our usual percentages would have held true, ten to fifteen percent of those teens would have sponsored a child that night (We haven’t had a night under ten percent yet.) Approximately 100 students and their leaders walked out on us. If they’d have stayed we might have saved ten to fifteen more kids’ lives: fed them, educated them, loved them, told them about Jesus. We could have made a bigger difference.
I confess then that I’ve let those youth ministers and that one night and all the “could haves” ruin my recollection of the rest of the trip. What a horrible flaw to have – the propensity to dwell on the unfilled part of the glass to the point that thanksgiving for the rest of it goes unoffered.
Sorry, God, for not being more thankful than I am angry. And suddenly I realize my own immaturities. And suddenly those youth ministers who walked out don’t seem worse than me, nor do I seem better. We’re just warped in different places – and we’re both neglecting to love. They can’t be bothered to sit still and respectfully and worshipfully listen, learn and then do. And I can’t get motivated to forgive them for it.
God, help us all to love what You love and forgive the way You do. And make the most out of all of us. Thank You for the lives saved. Use us to save the rest. And keep us from hurting and killing each other in the process.
Gerry Bounds says:
Shaun,
It was great getting to meet you this weekend in Monett, and I just felt like I have to say something about your “shlog”. First, in defense of the youth ministers who left in the middle of your performance – they had a 20-25 minute drive to get their kids back to their community and also had told the kids’ parents at what time they could be expected.
When they DID get up to leave during your performance, I had similar feelings as you. I thought,”Man, they REALLY need to stay and hear what Shaun has to say!!” But because we had the other band perform before you came out, they had to leave to get back at their alloted time. OUR BAD!!! In retrospect, we should have devoted the entire evening to you and your message!
So, don’t feel bad about what happened – you are doing a fantastic job for Compassion International, and although the Monett show may not have been as successful as others, things don’t always work the way WE plan them, but they ALWAYS work the way HE plans!!
God bless you for all the good that you’re doing, Shaun! And thanks for bringing your message to Monett, MO – I know God is already at work through your performance here!
ally simpson says:
shaun that sucks man………i cant believe that they would walk out, crazy!! Man keep doing what ur doing………….you are a bright light in the “christian music world”……..i have so much respect for what you have been doing, God bless man
grace and peace
ally
Cali Amy says:
It’s a huge pet peeve of mine when people leave anything early, except for maybe sporting events, but even then…
But what I love about this post is that you realize that even so, you have no control over it and the loving thing is to forgive. I need to see that more in my life.
Aims says:
Let me play devil’s advocate here for a second. Not saying that saving kids from poverty and hunger isn’t important, it is. But really can we honestly not think that maybe those kids were supposed to be home at a certain hour and they were running late on getting somewhere else? To be fair let’s consider all the options here. Now if it was that church’s youth group I’d been like “Whoa! Dude! What’s up with that?! That’s RUDE man!” unless of course there was some other agenda that was planned say a ski retreat or something they were having to leave for. Do you honestly want to openly point your finger in almost condemnation at someone when you don’t have the whole story? That’s one slippery slope you just shouldn’t try and climb Shaun.
Todd says:
Aims, I don’t believe Shaun was condemning anybody, I believe he was venting his frustration from what appeared to be a horribly timed walked out.
I understand that they may have needed to leave, but choosing to leave at the same time Shaun is saying “this is why i do what i do; this is what my kids are praying for” seems rude, regardless of the surrounding circumstances.
That said, I had a friend who had to leave early from the show and he felt awful about it and embarrassed. When he looked down and realized he was supposed to be at the church, chaperoning a lock-in 15 minutes earlier, he didn’t feel like he had much choice.
Shaun, what you should do is say, “All right people. I’ve got 15 minutes left. If you need to leave, please do so during this song that I didn’t write” and then play “Sanctuary” or “Here I am to Worship” or something.
Shawn Bashor says:
Dude I just wanted to say thank you. I honestly haven’t read your blog much lately, been busy, you know all the normal excuses that someone can give. I sit here tonight, tired, lonely and feeling a little sorry for myself; wanna know why? Because I am selfish, because I am egotistic, because I don’t appreciate God’s love throughout the day like I should. This entry struck a nerve and woke me up. Thanks bro…
Shaun Groves says:
Thanks Shawn.
And thanks, Todd. Good suggestion. And, yea, I wasn’t condemning anyone. I totally understand why many had to leave when they did. I’m over it. This post is my admitting that I took it wrong at the time and learned about myself in the process.
Sorry if it communicated anything else.
SG
Lucas says:
Mate, That sucks! You know, its a shame….. those leaders are meant to be discipling those entrusted to their care, not to entertain. I feel bad for those 10-15% of kids who would’ve answered Gods call to get involved and “do” what he commands – “To look after orphans and widows”. They we’re robbed of their blessing because their ‘leader’ thought he knew better.?. Shame.
Brant says:
To this day, it bothers me if I’m playing a song I wrote for somebody, or they request to hear something I did, and then they start talking during it. I don’t get it.
Look, I poured myself into this, this is artistic expression, and you can’t pay attention for a few minutes? Holy cow.
I think this just amplifies this kind of frustration. You’re not up there doing something half-hearted, you’re pouring yourself into something you really believe *matters*. So when people blow it off, to me, it’s like they’re pretty much nullifying everything I care about, and hence, am. It’s not a simple ego thing, I think.
Very frustrating. I do try to take that feeling and apply it to when someone’s talking to me. Am I really listening?
Dave Haupert says:
I was at a business conference in San Diego a few years ago and it was in a nice resort. They had an outdoor bar and the company holding the conference had a cocktail hour reception. Hundreds of people were there and there was a guy playing keys and singing some mood music. The crowd was so loud that you could barely even hear what he was playing, yet each time a song ended, he desperately looked out for some kind of acknowledgement- applause, a smile, or anything to know that he wasn’t doing it all for nothing. I could see his wife and kids sitting off to the side, and it broke my heart that they all looked disappointed.
As I thought about it, he had expectations that were probably unrealistic, it was a cocktail reception, not a concert. But yet, I don’t know that he was asking for 100% listening participation either. Yet my heart still aches for him.
In your case Shaun, I appreciate how you shared your journey of feelings. I have those exact same journeys when as Brant says, someone starts talking as you’re playing a song for them, or when you’re playing at a county fair and everyone is just walking by and no one is stopping to listen even just for a second, or even when I think I did a killer job on a song at church but there is no complement. Yet each time, the journey ends with me growing in my understand of other people and my unrealistic expectations of them, and I think it makes me a better person for it. I love that God is not through with me yet and is teaching me to this day about how I’ve gotten it wrong and am nowhere near the goal of spiritual perfection that he staked when He walked among us.
Alexis says:
I completely understand. When I first started going to Christian Concerts (I became a Christian in 2000) I didn’t know the music and what was said in between the songs is what really spoke to me, and kept me coming back.
I now struggle as you do, with my work in Compassion, I always like to make sure I hear what is being said by the speaker about Compassion. As I stand in the back somewhere (usually) as soon as the music stops and the speaker begins to speak, people get up. And it hurts. And it happens all the time, not just at the end of the night when people need to get going home. Many people are there simply for entertainment, and it hurts when we, as speakers, are there for something more.