---

Nine years ago, a fierce battle with anxiety and depression sidelined me from ministry. At first, I clung to my faith by my fingernails. I read almost exclusively from the Psalms and tire-lessly cried out to God for mercy, wisdom, and relief. Despair eventually overshadowed any sense of hope, and I became “Raul the Sad, Angry, Cussing Ex-Pastor.” One year later, feeling abandoned by God, unemployed, and living off the government  with lots of time on my hands, I decided to take matters into my own hands and do what I wanted to do: learn to play the electric guitar like Stevie Ray Vaughan.

I had played worship guitar for years—an interest that grew out of a deep love for God and music, but now I was too angry to worship. So I took lessons, practiced for hours, and quickly discovered that nothing in my arsenal of psychological techniques could mitigate a panic attack more effectively than dimming the volume on my amp and playing rock cover tunes. One day, after griping to a friend that God had gone dark and left me to fend for myself, he asked me whether there was anything in my life that evoked a sense of joy. I didn’t hesitate. I told him that when I shut the door, plugged in, turned up the volume, and played until my fingertips begged me to stop I was filled with a hopeful, joyful energy. That, my friend reminded me, was the very presence of God in my life, rejoicing over, delighting in, and showering me with his love and goodness. That was a spiritual point of revelation. Though I continued to struggle, learning to find God in new, unconventional places felt like forward movement. I was growing.

Most people get the idea that growth is a normal and necessary part of life. Sucking your thumb when you’re a baby will get you cute looks, but doing the same thing in your twenties gets you an intervention. When writers of the New Testament adopt the language of growth and maturity to describe an equally normal and necessary component of the spiritual journey, they are appealing to our innate understanding of how things are supposed to work.See Luke 8:14; Ephesians 4:13–15; 1 Corinthians 2:6; 4:20, 2 Peter 3:18; Philippians 3:13–15.

Somewhere along the way, spiritual formation became discipleship, which became synonymous with Bible studies and accountability partners. Even responsible adulthood doesn’t happen simply by learning facts and following rules—it also involves love, relationships, work, play, failure, loss, sadness, courage, and beauty.Curiously, these are also the makings of most song lyrics! Similarly, spiritual formation is a holistic and dynamic process. God’s creativity is evident not only in his six-day work week in Genesis, but also in his engagement of all these entry points in shaping his character in us.

In the movie, Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddell responds to his sister’s concerns over his decision to run in the 1924 Olympics rather than return to China as a missionary: “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel God’s pleasure.”“Chariots of Fire quotes,” http://m.imdb.com/title/tt0082158/quotes? qt=qt0456359 (accessed 6 January 2023). I get the tension, but I also get the irony. When I play electric guitar and turn up my amp until the tubes reach a lovely hue of red-orange, I feel God’s pleasure. I sense his delight and rejoice with him as the one who made my fingers, well, somewhat fast. It is my musical prayer language.