I was blessed from birth to be born into a family of musicians. My Mother played piano and my Father played guitar. Moreover, my Mother was a devout Christian who played piano in church every Sunday and Wednesday night as long as I can remember. She raised us children in church and taught us the love of God by example. My father played guitar with friends and pick up bands as long as I can recall. Many nights I fell asleep in the living room floor with my ear pressed against the front of and old Fender amplifier. How could I not have turned out to be a guitar player? Little did I know God was going to deposit a gift in me that would be a constant blessing to me for my whole life.

At the age of five years old I begged my Father for a guitar. I had secretly been getting his out when he would go to work and was able to “one string” Secret Agent Man by Johnny Rivers. When Dad told me I was too little to play the guitar I told him I could play and I could prove it. So he went and got his guitar and sat me down. I proceeded to plunk out my rendition of the song. His eyes got big and Mom grinned. The next afternoon when Dad came home from work he had a brand new Kay guitar for me. Thus began my musical apprenticeship. Dad taught me the foundation of guitar and the importance of using your ear, listening to allother musicians and playing “with” them. By the age of ten years, I could play everything my Father could play. One night we were sitting playing and he told me he had taught me all he could. I began listening to the radio and playing with it as much as I could. Slowly I began to progress more and more.  

I continued honing the gift by playing in bands, at church and at home. Around the age of twenty I was playing in a local band that had gained quite a following and a good bit of notoriety. I soon found myself playing three to four nights a week in bars and clubs, far from the church where I had spent countless hours playing guitar and bass beside my Mother. Slowly I saw myself drift away from God and fall into the clutches of alcohol, drugs, sexual sin and the lifestyle of a “musician”. This went on for about three years until one day God was able to get through to me and I turned back to Him. I thought about it long and hard and came to the conclusion that my guitar playing was what had led me down the slippery path to turning my back on God. I purposed in my heart to not let that happen again and put the guitar down. I sold all my equipment except for my acoustic and old stratocaster. I put them in a closet and did not touch them for four years.  During this time God was working on me and as I sought Him, He revealed himself to me more and more. After about four years I guess I had matured in Christ to the point God showed me  it was not the “guitar” that had taken me away from Him, rather it was my choices that did it. I got my guitars out and began playing. It was amazing, I had not touched them for so long but I could play better than I ever had. My abilities grew rapidly over the next few years.

All through these years I had been in ond out of church. I had given my heart to God as a young man but did not really understand the daily walk since my baptist upbringing taught me “once saved – always saved”. I felt free to come and go with God as I pleased. I was mistaken. At age thirty I married a devout Christian woman and began my life as a husband and Father to a step son and a little later to my son. All the while God was using her to bring me close to Him. Eventually we landed in a church and after much prodding by her I attended a musicians fellowship the church sponsored. I did not play until the very end when they invited everyone up to jam. The pastor and music minister asked me to stay afterwards and I played with the band for about an hour. They invited me to be on the team the next day and I served there for nine years playing every Sunday.

We left that church in 2006 and began seeking a new place to worship and serve. During this time we attended a small church and my outlet for music was limited. I began to look outward for places to play, falling into the same old trap. I got into a “harmless” little blues band of old married guys and we began playing restaurants and small bars. I felt convicted at first but since I was not drinking, drugging and chasing women I was able to justify it in my mind. This went on until 01-27-07 when God used a terrible accident to get my attention and show me his healing power. I was in my wood shop working on an order of cabinets when the thing I feared most happened. I was ripping some material and lost my focus for a moment and before I knew it I had my index and middle finger on my left hand in the tablesaw blade. Initially I thought it had cut them off but when I looked I saw that the tips were mangled and destroyed. Bone was exposed and nerve ending dangled. I immediately thought of the guitar and the fact that I would probably never be able to play again. This photo shows what I saw when I looked at my hand (See Photo Below). It is hard to see but the tips and end of these fingers were ripped to pieces and this picture shows them after I had been holding them together with a rag for about an hour. My son snapped this picture for me in the emergency room that day. I don’t know why I asked him to do this then but now, I think it was to serve as a testimony to God’s providence and healing power.

This is where the miracle begins. They took me into the ER and began prepping me. This older gentleman came in and introduced himself, Dr. Morren. He looked at the damage and calmly said “ No Problem”. I was shocked to say the least. I proceeded to explain to him that I was a guitar player and these two fingers were very very important to me and my ability to play. Further asking him to do his best to put them back together for me. He again said “No Problem”. He sent the nurse out and she came back with the smallest needles and sutures I have ever seen. The thread look nearly as fine as hair. He proceeded to go to work. I watched every clip and every stitch. It took him two hours to complete the repair. He carefully repositioned each piece of damaged flesh rather than just clipping it off. Securing each with tiny stitches. When he was done he had put fourteen stitches in these two fingers. Other than the fingernails being gone, they looked pretty good. I thanked him as he quickly cleaned up and headed to the next patient. I had no idea of the miracle that had just taken place.

After two weeks and unbelievable pain I was sent to my first meeting with the rehab group. When the bandages were removed, soaked and cleaned the specialist looked at the fingers and said “I bet Dr. Mooren did this for you” and I said “yep he sure did”. He said he could tell from the stitches. He proceeded to reveal the first part of this miracle. He explained to me at Dr. Mooren was a retired nerosurgeon who practiced for fifty years. He retired to Pensacola and comes by the ER a couple of times a month to keep his license current and keep active. He added “It must have been your lucky day”. I said nothing but inside my mind I thought, no that was my miracle day because what no one knew was that day while riding to the ER I begged God to please not take this gift from me. He heard my prayer and after four months of therapy and hard work I was able to pick up the guitar and attempt to play. It was painful and it took over a year of hard work, playing every day but God was good. I feel I am actually better today because of the hard work and God’s blessing. If you look at my fingers now you can hardly tell anything happened to them. I have all feeling and dexterity just as before. I thank God daily for the gift He deposited in me as a young boy and thank Him for the second, third chances He has given me in regards to my talent.

I share this with no amount of pride or selfserving intended, only with a spirit of gratitude and testimony for what God has done for me. This is but one thing of many He has done for me.

God Bless,

Bob Burt