I was three or four-years old when my parents first took notice of my affinity for music. My father was stationed at Frankfurt, Germany at the time. The little theater on the military base was showing “The Music Man”, and although my parents had originally planned on enjoying a nice night out with another couple, a sick babysitter prompted a change of plans. They ended up having to take me to the theater, assuming that I would last all of thirty minutes. Instead, they watched in amazement as I sat riveted on the edge of my seat throughout the entire movie.

So, my love for music was apparent at a very early age, fueled by the discovery of a nice singing voice and a quick ability to play various musical instruments.

Something in me began to change, though, when I began to cross that bridge into adolescence. Rather, something didn’t change as drastically as other boys my age were experiencing at the time. While my friends were suddenly talking like men, I still sounded like a boy—or worse, a girl. The instrument that had given me such joy throughout my childhood suddenly became a source of embarrassment.

It took years for me to overcome my inhibitions. In fact—I probably still harbor some residual of those anxieties, particularly if I’m singing for someone who has not heard me before. Believe me when I confess how often I’ve challenged God over the “gift” that he gave me. Could I not still accomplish his plans with a normal voice?

Alas, God gave me a different voice—and it has not only been in God’s plan for me to use my voice, but to also cultivate within me a sense of kinship with those who see themselves as flawed. In the athletic world I tend to root for underdogs. At a party, I’m drawn to those who linger out on the periphery, the quiet ones, the outsiders. Jesus’ life on this earth resonates with me, not just because of the sword he wielded against the religious establishment of that time, but for the profound emphasis he placed on the poor, the outcast, and the marginalized.

This is what I hope to convey in this blog, that in a very modest and understated way it would be a source of encouragement to both the church community and to all those who are currently standing out there in the margins. I have a different voice. I hope you’ll be able to hear it cutting through the noise and the clamor.

Hugs,
Mark