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So, over the past 72 hours, I’ve put in a lot of time on my music – more time than I’ve put in in the last three weeks combined. The result? Well, most of them are yet to be determined. Hopefully I’ll get a string of shows lined up from it. But what I can say is that my upper forearms are starting to sing to me again… Meaning: they tingle with pain some times and at other times they send two- or three-note staccato soprano notes straight to my brain via my my hyper-active nervous system.

The point: I need to be conscious of my time on the computer, get off of the laptop and back on to a real keyboard and touchpad, and take breaks frequently.

I’m still trying to figure out how any letdown can be beautiful, but I think it’s a good exercise to get in to the habit of. I’ve also just recently discovered that the way we think about shame is all messed up – just like our understanding of being let down. Here’s what I’ve learned:

“No one whose hope is in [God] will ever be put to shame”

– Psalm 25, line 3

What ever could that mean? It means that, at the very least, there was no shame at the cross where Jesus died. People mess that up all the time. I mess it up. The culture of the time messed it up. According to the Romans at the time, it was the absolute, most shameful way to go. But somehow, there was no shame there. How does that relate to my first point?

I can’t explain it, but I *think* that letdowns *are* always beautiful. (Switchfoot was right.) When I don’t get my way, that event should cause me to think about something that is more meaningful than whatever it was that I wanted – and didn’t get. I think about a story I once heard about a man born blind…

So what sparked this conversation in my mind? A good friend of mine, Chris, gave me a lead on an apartment for rent (a condo, really) at an unbelievable price – with all of the amenities that I have been dying to have – namely, a dishwasher, clothes washer and dryer, a balcony, and two bedrooms.

I made the first call. I spoke with the owner. It sounded promising. She made sure that I was aware of the rate: $800/mo. + gas, electric, and water. Awesome deal. The owner gave me the name of the person managing the rental, and I gave her a call. She didn’t call me back.

Day two. I call the property manager. She answers. Bomb #1: someone else has already submitted an application. Then, she proceeds to inform me that there was some sort of mistake about the rental price. She claimed that the *owner* was confused about how much the property was renting for. Yeah, right. Bomb #2: the property manager was asking for $975/mo. + utilities.

And so there you have it. My beautiful letdown.

Now if I can only come to see how it is beautiful…