You ever have one of those days where you’re sitting comfortably on your office couch and then you hear a strange wood-crackling sound, only to witness the bridge inexplicably snap right off the body of your guitar? Well, I hadn’t either, until today!
I hope I’m not breaking any trademark laws here, but honestly I heard a “snap, crackle…” and then, turning my head to my office window thinking the frame was suddenly warping, I heard a final “pop!”
(yes, with a bit of “twang”) and my good old Ovation Custom Balladeer Model No. 1612 guitar had fallen apart.

I sat there a little stunned for a minute. This guitar actually means a lot to me. It’s not the one I use on Sunday mornings, but I do use it regularly at Awana and Youth Group and anywhere else I go “unplugged.” I’ve been using it that way for almost 25 years.
When I was 16, my mom found this barely used instrument and bought for me for Christmas (still my favorite gift ever). My earliest worship leading, playing along with my youth pastor, was done with this guitar. Virtually every song I’ve ever written was penned with this thing in my lap. It travelled with me all over the country in my touring days. It’s helped me lead singing in front of countless campfires and several different congregations. I played it the night I proposed to Kelly in Concord, New Hampshire.
And there are many, many more memories I have of this guitar, which I won’t bore you with here. But of all my earthly possessions, this guitar ranks #2 in sentimental value, trumped only by the wedding bands Kelly and I wear.

I’ll check into getting it repaired, but it will surely cost more to fix than to replace. More than likely, it’s just gone! Five minutes earlier I had tuned it up to work on a hymn arrangement I’m working on, and then…“Snap, crackle, pop
(twang)!”
After my stunned minute, I went outside in the cold afternoon air to do a little yard work on the north side of our church building and, more importantly, to do a little thinking about my loss. It occurred to me that all of our possessions will suffer a similar fate eventually. Some will slowly waste away, some will suddenly be taken from us, and if anything makes it to The End, it will be destroyed along with everything else on earth (including the Earth).
It’s with this in mind that Peter asks a simple question in his second epistle:
Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be?
The answer should probably be obvious, but he gives it anyway:
You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming.
And by “day of God” he means (in part) the destruction of everything…
That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. (2 Peter 3:11-12)
If “the heavens…and the elements” will be destroyed by fire then none of my stuff stands a chance. My wedding ring, my guitars (one broken, three still intact), my house, my satellite dish, my almost-paid-off mini-van, my pictures, my stereo, my CD’s, my lawn mower…whether it’s precious to me or just a dumb necessity, it will all be destroyed. Isaiah 51:6 says,
Lift up your eyes to the heavens,look at the earth beneath;the heavens will vanish like smoke,the earth will wear out like a garmentand its inhabitants die like flies.But my salvation will last forever,my righteousness will never fail.
There
are some things that will last forever, and when I concentrate most on
those things, then I will probably be on the right track for living the holy and godly life that Peter wrote about.
I’ll be honest, I’m going to miss my guitar. But it is, ultimately, on the “to be destroyed” list. As I figure out what to do to replace it--with another temporary thing--I need to all the more consider what I’m gathering that will last forever.