The Daily Register - Harrisburg, IL
The Rev. Tim Schenck, rector of St. John the Evangelist in Hingham, Mass., looks for God amid domestic chaos
In Good Faith: “C’mon Get Happy”
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About this blog
Tim Schenck is an Episcopal priest, husband to Bryna, father to Benedict and Zachary, and \x34master\x34 to Delilah (about 50 in dog years). Since 2009 I've been the rector of the Episcopal Parish of St. John the Evangelist in Hingham, Mass. (on the ...
Father Tim
Tim Schenck is an Episcopal priest, husband to Bryna, father to Benedict and Zachary, and master to Delilah (about 50 in dog years). Since 2009 I've been the rector of the Episcopal Parish of St. John the Evangelist in Hingham, Mass. (on the South Shore of Boston). I've also served parishes in Maryland and New York. When I'm not tending to my parish, hanging out with my family, or writing, I can usually be found drinking good coffee -- not that drinking coffee and these other activities are mutually exclusive. I hope you'll visit my website at www.frtim.com to find out more about me, read some excerpts from my book What Size are God's Shoes: Kids, Chaos & the Spiritual Life (Morehouse, 2008), and check out some recent sermons.
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Oct. 10, 2012 12:01 a.m.

In my latest “In Good Faith” column I explore the possibilities of leaving it all behind to go on tour with the family. Sure, there are a few obstacles standing in the way like adequate talent and the lack of a Partridge Family-style bus. But surely those aren’t insurmountable?

“C’mon Get Happy”

By the Rev. Tim Schenck
ďDonít look now but weíre becoming the Partridge Family,Ē I muttered to my wife the other day. No, we didnít trade in our ten-year-old mini-van for a vintage tour bus but over the summer the boys and I started taking music lessons.
Although itís been 25 years since my last one, Iím officially a guitar student again. Now that my dream of playing major league baseball has been unceremoniously jettisoned Ė evidently no team wants to sign a 40-something with little talent and less experience Ė all I have left is my dream to become a rock ní roll star.
Over the summer the boys and I discovered the newly opened Guitar Center in Braintree. Occupying the former Borders space, the place is a cavernous candy store for would-be rockers. Despite the name, the place is packed with not only guitars but drums, keyboards, amps, basses, and anything else you could possibly need to imitate the Rolling Stones. Or Danny Bonaduce.
Best of all, they offer on-site lessons. So after drooling over various instruments, the next thing I knew the three of us were signed up to start rocking out.
The real musician in our family is Zack who has played the clarinet and recently graduated to the oboe (if you get confused among woodwinds, itís the duck in Peter and the Wolf). The instrument is so obscure heís evidently the only oboe player in the entire Hingham Middle School. During summer camp he became enamored with the bass guitar and has been plucking away ever since. Well, ever since I put out the call on Facebook to ask if anyone local had a bass guitar burning a hole in their basement. Someone did.
Ben tooled around on the violin in elementary school before dropping it like a bad transmission when he had the chance. So naturally heís our drummer. I always swore no child of mine would ever play the drums. Of course this is coming from the same father who swore that no child of his would ever become a Yankees fan. A few lessons and a starter drum kit off Craigís List later, our house sounds like a combat zone heavy on the artillery.
So far, our repertoire consists of the opening bars of ďLove StinksĒ by the J. Geils Band, ďBall and ChainĒ by Social Distortion, and, well, thatís about it. No, weíre not going to be learning ďCímon, get happy.Ē
Actually, Iím a big fan of the blues and have hacked around with basic blues riffs for years. Every once in a while, when itís been that kind of day, Iíll plug in the old Fender Stratocaster that sits in my office closet and crank up the amp after everyoneís left. Thereís just something about the blues for me that connects with the soul and relieves stress. Now that Iím actually taking lessons again, with a phenomenal teacher/guitar hero named Matt Sullivan, Iím learning new things every week and some of them even stick.
Thereís something about tapping into your latent creative side that is wonderfully enriching. I find itís especially easy for adults to lose their creative edge amid the demands of simply getting through the day. Like everything else in life Ė including prayer Ė it takes intentionality to carve out time for creativity. Itís not about the talent Ė fortunately Ė itís about finding things that nurture the soul and allow us to use the gifts and passions bestowed upon us by God. Iím trying both metaphorically and literally to plug into this but pursuing your creativity may well be unplugged Ė like art or writing or cooking or gardening or woodworking.
At some point Iíll obviously be leaving my day job to hit the road and start touring. Aside from getting Bryna a tambourine, the only other thing weíll need is a tour bus.

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