Hilary and I were recently in a hidden backroom of a restaurant. You’d never know it was there. You almost have to walk through the kitchen to get to the leather door, protected by an electronic lock and keypad. Inside it were 10 classy seats, a bar, and a couple of small tables. It was dark, but still visible was a spiral staircase behind the bar leading up to a catwalk lined with bookshelves. On the catwalk stood the musician.
The musician was mysterious. Bald, cheetah print suit, tall. He brought his own custom-made amp that looked Star Wars vintage. And he held a modified guitar from which he drew amazing sounds—using a violin bow.
It was like magic.
I’ve never heard anything like it. My friends and I stopped talking and listened. We couldn’t help it. He was enchanting.
Periodically, he would sing into his auto-tuned iPhone, adding layers and layers to the mystery music. Amazing.
Oh, and there were ten of us in the room to enjoy it.
Ten people. That’s all.
It seemed like a waste. And perhaps it was. Kind of like dumping way too much perfume on one person’s head (Mark 14). But we were really grateful to be the ten… That it was our heads receiving the gift.
And it made me think… How often am I generously wasteful and a blessing to a few?