When interviewed for a magazine a few days ago I was asked the question, “What would you say are the top three priorities for worship leaders?” My answers are simple but I believe that if heeded and practiced, they will bring fruit to your worship leading experience. My suggestions are based on the teaching of Jesus from Matthew 22:37-40 when He was asked what He thought was the greatest commandment:

Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (NIV)

1. Love God. This seems obvious at first but it is a commandment from Jesus. Loving God in every area of our life is our greatest testimony. When we have a passion for God in work, when we play, when times are smooth and when they are rocky, when we are with our families and our guard is down, our passion for God is obvious and it is contagious when others see us living what we lead.

2. Love people. We must live a singular life when we lead people. We cannot be one way with our close friends and then another with those we lead at church. If we lead by influence (and this, in my opinion, is the only way to lead), and we love and respect people–stopping to listen to their story and showing care and concern for them–they will follow us. A true leader is one who never has to force people to follow. If you find yourself coercing others to follow, you are not a leader. People will follow your leadership if you care for them.

3. Bring excellence. My pastor always encourages our team to bring our “A” game each service. We have five services each weekend and it can be easy to “phone-one-in” if we are not careful.

The best way for me to bring my best is to, first, be prepared. I believe proper preparation for our worship leading brings rest. I am relaxed and this, in turn, helps my team and the congregation to be relaxed (people have a hard time focusing on God when you are fumbling around as the leader).

Second, it helps to be focused. I try to train my heart and mind to zero-in on the task at hand for the hour or so before I lead. One tool I use to help me with this is to put a cheat-sheet (notes, keys changes, chord changes, arrangements, etc.) on the floor next to my mic stand so I can look down and find my bearings, if needed, as I proceed through the worship service.

Third, I think rehearsal is so important. I can hear you saying a collective, “DUH!” right about now! We have rehearsals on Tuesday nights so we then have a few days to study the rehearsal CD before we arrive back on Saturday afternoon to lead the services.

I find that all of these preps bring rest and there is no better way to lead others. When we have a passion for God and people while knowing where we are going in worship, and how we are going to get there, others will gladly follow!

I have many more things to say that I can’t write here in this one post. So, if you want to learn more, I want to give you an opportunity to join me as I am starting two new web-based schools offering virtual classrooms and personal coaching. I will be the main instructor for both tracks. One track is to train and strengthen the next generation of songwriters for the church called Song Schools. The other course, Worship Consultants, is for churches and worship leaders who want to improve leadership skills, team-building and worship services. You can find out more details about each course at songschools.com and worshipconsultants.com . Classes start in mid-July.

Three of my favorite ladies are sitting around the kitchen table right now after Sunday dinner talking about Josh, my son, and his fiance, Amber’s wedding in July. There is no place in the conversation where a guy can jump in and make a comment. They really don’t care what guys think when it comes to weddings. This is a chick thing. And by the way, they (chicks) can talk and listen at the same time. Its an incredible sight to behold.

As an ordained minister for more than 20 years, I have officiated my share of weddings. I can offer my suggestions to the bride and her mother but they usually look at me with rolled-eyed pity. You see, their wedding will be like no other. It will be so original and they expect everyone to notice all of the details and the symbolism attached to the decor and the ceremony. Truth be told, no one ever notices the details like the bride and mother. Guys, especially, don’t give a flying flip. Guys are so practical when it comes to weddings: 1)ask the father of the bride for her hand in marriage, 2) get a ring and propose, and 3) The Honeymoon! All of the other steps in the wedding process are unimportant.

I can’t believe how much a wedding costs today. When Brenda and I married 25 years ago our cake cost around $100. The photos probably cost between $250 and $500. Brenda’s mother did the flowers and placed tandem Christmas trees standing like guards at the back row of the aisle. We couldn’t disguise the fact that we were married in a gym (the lines on the floor and the goals are very much present in our photos). The simple but elegant Christmas theme did its best to draw attention away from our basketball-sanctuary. I am sure that the costs were crazy for the mid-eighties and I am grateful to my in-law for creating a beautiful memory.

The suggestion I bring to brides is to consider the flow of the wedding for the sake of those invited. I hate waiting for cake just because the bride a groom are taking pictures. I also hate it when there are a billion songs during the ceremony. I suggest the wedding be as early as possible so the bride and groom can take a moment to reflect on the day over dinner (Brenda and I had our wedding at 7 o’clock in the evening…we were both famished and exhausted by the time we reached our evening’s destination).

Brides and moms really don’t care about my ideas even as they are sane, practical and efficient. Brides aren’t looking for efficient…they are looking for “story book”. My biggest suggestion to Josh and his bride is: here’s how much money I have for this wedding. Its your decision to spend as much as you want or take it on your honeymoon. If I were in their place, I would elope, take the money and run!

Music stores are like candy stores to me. Not the big-box music stores but the little ones that have charm, great personal service and all the little boutique items that big-boxes would never carry. I have a favorite store in Nashville, right down from Baptist Hospital, across from Exit/In, called Rock Block that I love to visit. I have to bring a pocket full of parking meter quarters if I am gonna stay a while.

Musicians are a funny breed. Guitar players especially have a disease called G.A.S.– gear acquisition syndrome. We are always on the prowl for that illusive tone calling out to us from classic records, favorite players and gear that we lust for while perusing our guitar magazines. GAS is a condition that makes wives suspicious every time we take a trip to our little music store. While there, we are tempted with new, shiny boxes filled with switches and lights–all promising the journey’s end in a lifetime of searching for musical gold like Cortez in his pursuit for El Dorado (minus the pillage and mass murder, of course). There will never be an end to our gear lust.

This quest for great guitar tone started with my first electric guitar and amp. Once the volume was dimed and that first wind-mill strum was cranked on that open-voiced G chord, I was hooked. Power, creativity, dreams and girls were now possible. The once invisible, mild little Harvill boy now had a promising future (…well that’s what I fantasized, anyway).

As I started down that path as a musician many of my friends joined me. We all wanted to be like the Beatles. As we moved into Jr. High and beyond, friends traded the music bug for baseball or something else. It’s interesting that as I made my choice to continue playing and pursuing music as a profession, I eventually found myself alone in the endeavor. Playing music for a living is expensive and almost never pays off like the dream promised in the beginning. In fact, the original fantasy of power and girls is supplanted with a real passion for the instrument and the incredible satisfaction that performing, writing and singing brings. It was never for the money, really–because there is so little money to be had (ask your guitar-virtuoso waiter next time while visiting a Nashville TGI Fridays!).

I love living in Nashville where so many of us with the dogged-determination to make a living in music reside. You can spot us a mile a way by our hair style; our car’s rear bumper making sparks in the road from too much equipment piled up in the back seat; or just the silly smile on our face from GAS, headed to Rock Block.

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog about the adventures of professional road-life in a band. I spent almost 6 years of virtually uninterrupted, “living out of a suitcase,” life-on-the-go. I don’t think I completely unpacked my clothes even once during those 6 years. The art of packing for such a prolonged time span creates a paranoia of losing control of your finely-folded world. Really…the suitcase and, of course, the briefcase contained my entire sustenance! One must remember, my road-dog days lasted from the very beginning of the 80’s and ended almost into ’86 when a beautiful brunette from Mobile, Alabama caused me to willingly exit the highway and settle down. Since this was before the days of cell phones and iPods, I suffered great hardship on the unforgiving concrete pathways criss-crossing North America and the world.

By traveling in such compact spaces, and being together 24/7, it is easy to lose one’s identity and surrender to the pack mentality.There are some techniques that the road-dog learns to maintain his individuality–to mentally and emotionally survive . This is where books, magazines and music (earphones) come in handy. They create a needed barrier when all you have separating you and your band mate is the air you breathe and the shirt on your back. As I mentioned in the last blog, the 1 hour rule before speaking to anyone after climbing aboard the bus in the morning is a life saver (literally…you wanna murder the incessant talkers…loud talkers are worse). Malls are a great diversion because you can stretch your legs, get some air and be alone for a while.

Learning to sleep, and the many techniques one must experiment with to get it, is a necessary way of physically surviving the road. Getting adequate rest while sitting in the up-position is a talent I learned while traveling by van in the early days. I would go to sleep somewhere in rainy Tennessee, let’s say, and wake up after 8, solid hours in sunny Florida. Sleeping on the floor of a van is a wicked feat only accomplished by the young, nimble and comatose. After a while the body gets used to such abuse and surrenders to it’s cruelty. Do or die– adapt or get off the bus!

A much-coveted skill practiced by hard-core roadies is the ability to roll cords. Novices are not welcomed. The art of pinch-n-roll has been practiced by road musicians since sound systems were invented. The beauty of a well-rolled cord is it’s ability to be unrolled without snags, knots or twists. A roadie will rip a cable from the hands of a well-meaning, post-show helper and roll it himself rather than suffer the consequences of poor roll-manship!

Not an art but a staple in the life of every road-dog is duct tape. I have used it for suitcase repair, U-Haul trailer leak-stopper, road atlas cover protector and band-aids. It is the glue that holds the road-world together. And not just any gaffer’s tape will do. The cheap stuff does more damage than good. It leaves behind evidence. The good stuff costs a lot more but the results are outstanding. The manager of the venues we visited didn’t appreciate a sticky mess after our circus left town.

The last observation of my road experience today is the kitchen entrance. Why is it that every band I have been with loads in and out through the kitchen? We hustle past the smelly garbage on the dock into the equally stench-laden elevator, past the coffee brewing (good smell) and the food prep, into the ballroom where 50 servers are pouring ice-water into glass goblets, 2 hours before the gig. Every major artist enters the stage through the kitchen. Isn’t that where RFK met his fate? Come to think of it, Reagan almost lost his life at a Washington, D.C. Hilton on March 30, 1981 near the kitchen as he was leaving.

Road life may have taken me through the oddest paces of any other endeavor I have attempted in my almost 50 years on earth. It has also let me through the catacombs beneath Walt Disney World; brought me to stand on the foundation of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece; led me to rise up from the subway in Rome to the beautiful panorama of the Colosseum; and to a bluff overlooking a harbor in Iceland. You see, road life has it’s payoff. I will never under-estimate the valuable lessons I gained through those wonderful experiences. I will always be grateful for the toughness it brought to my character. I wouldn’t trade it for anything…well, maybe a decent night’s sleep.

I have been reading a book called With the Old Breed by Eugene Sledge. It was a source for Ken Burns in producing his 2007 PBS series, The War. Tom Hanks, an executive producer on the HBO series The Pacific, said of Sledge’s book, “…(it) is considered perhaps as great a combat memoir as has ever been produced…It is very personal and it is very much written with his voice and with his perspective on life.”

I was so intrigued with Sledge’s character in The Pacific that I bought a copy of With the Old Breed for my Kindle. Sledge and another character in the series, Sid Phillips, grew up in Mobile, Alabama (Dr. Phillips was at one time my wife’s family physician). Their stories intertwine throughout the 10 installments of The Pacific series. Because I already knew a little bit about Sid, I wanted to know more about Sledge. His book holds up to the reputation touted by Hanks.

A particular passage in the first third of the book centered around a divine visitation on the harsh Peleliu battlefield:

Suddenly, I heard a loud voice say clearly and distinctly, “You will survive the war!”
After a few quizzical glances Sledge asked, “Did y’all hear that?”
”Hear what?” (the others) inquired.
“Someone said something,” I said.

Sledge went on to write about his unusual experience-

“Like most persons, I had always been skeptical about hearing voices. So I didn’t mention my experience to anyone. But I believed God spoke to me that night on that Peleliu battlefield, and I resolved to make my life amount to something after the war.”

I have experienced similar moments– hearing God’s voice. One in particular was during a dream. I had been facing a series of decisions that would eventually lead to my songwriting career and success. In the dream I was at a party where several small clusters of people gathered, talking to one another. I heard the voice of God call my name and say, “Follow me.” I asked the others in the party if they heard it too. As with Sledge, my friends didn’t hear a thing. I have, on other occasions, heard my name being called out and no one else heard either.

You might think that I am crazy. But I, like Sledge, can testify that God will visit us in situations beyond our ability to cope. Or in situations where a big life-change is looming on the horizon. He lets us know He is there and that our welfare and safety are protected by His hand. My greatest testimony, and that of Eugene, is that what was promised to us both came to be.

I am encouraged today that God has a plan for me. And if I follow Him, no matter the odds, I will find success.