Every time a crisis faces us we experience a sense of abandonment as it’s a clash of wills–ours over the perfection of our adversary. My friend, life’s a story, stayed tuned for more on This Passing Day.
I’ve been recording these daily devotions around 4:30 in the morning for nearly fifteen years. That’s nearly 4,000 recording sessions. Monday through Friday I position the microphone, put the script up on my computer screen, boot the recording software and get ready to click the key to initiate the recording. Having done this thousands of times, one would think that it would be nearly mindless, automatic; it isn’t. Every morning I hesitate before clicking that key, knowing that once the session is rolling the microphone will pick up every mistake. Even though there is a shock ring to absorb a bump here and there and a pop filter to eliminate ‘popping’ sounds caused by the mechanical impact of fast moving air, there’s an inherent risk every time the red light blinks on that mic. A pause might be misplaced, a sentence skipped, poor inflection used or, even worse, a word crushed by my sometimes thick tongue. My heart rate speeds up every time I hit that key.
Every time I line that microphone up with my mouth I experience a sense of aband