The Pink Guitar

Our first baby turned 8 last week. Man, it goes by fast! Because she had begun to show interest in playing the guitar for a few months, I figured it was about time to give the option of developing her own musical skill set. And what better gift for a girl who dreams in pink, than for a Pink Guitar?

Watching her unwrap it was too cool. She was genuinely excited and mezmorized by it. Throw in a few pink picks, a pink amp cable, and a Barbie-sized amp, and you've got a future rock-n-roller. I wonder if 20 years from now whether or not she'll remember her 8th birthday present.

There are a few toys I remember. That Star Wars Christmas comes to mind a few years back. I have come to realize that the gifts Jana and I give our kids won’t meet the standards with many who live near us. I can guarantee that eight years from now she won’t be given a BMW of any kind for her sweet sixteen. After a conversation with a gentleman from church today, I realized that many of my neighbors will think far less of my children because they won’t be driving German imports. I’ll let my children know they should get used to disappointment. For whatever reason, many teenagers here drive cars more expensive than my first house.

Even if I were to discover oil in my backyard or something, I still wouldn’t buy my kid anything like that anyway. Either way I will be able to say, “Remember that pink guitar?”

For whatever reason I find myself always wanting a little bit more than I have: “x” coffees per week, “y” house in “z” neighborhood, etc. It’s easy to quickly forget not having a job just a year ago. Of course there may be some who look at me and say, "Why would somebody buy his kid a guitar of her own? Can't he just share?"

What does God think of my covetous heart? James 1:17 says, “Every good and perfect give comes from the Father.” So whether I make $5 million playing for the Mariners or $2 per day scavenging for scraps in Manila, God looks at my heart. Even though I make more money than 95% of the world, I frequently pine for what I don’t have. This is when I realize I’m in the wrong. So while I hope my daughter always treasures her pink guitar, my true hope for her is to be content – something I struggle with daily.