Tilt was born into a family of educators. His grandfather was the principal of a one-room classroom. He married his favorite student. And my father was one of his students. They called my grandfather, “Clint” and my father, “Ronnie.” Clint was a creative teacher who built relationships with his students giving each one a special nickname as they played ball together at recess. My father became Dr. Ronald Sprunger and has taught music all his life. My parents teach people to worship God through their music ministry. In their home, they teach people of all ages how to play keyboard. My father’s niche is teaching people how to play by ear, but I think he gets most of his students through his coffee ministry around town.
Both my father and I are otters. We get paid to play. He plays the keyboard building bridges into people’s hearts, and I play all day long as I help kids and families become healed and restored. The trouble we otters have is that sometimes we just don’t know when to stop. My father can turn every conversation into a song. And if he can’t find the song, he composes a new one. One of my catch phrases as a boy was “Music, Music, Music” because that’s all I heard 24-7 growing up. My problem with playing is that I never want to stop playing. I turn everything into a game, but not everyone loves playing as much as otters, but dogs do.
When I was about five years old, my parents took us to a formal gathering of educators. We all had to dress up to make our parents look good. The hosts must have had some money. I remember being impressed that they had their own 3 x 5 fishpond built into their back porch. They also had a fun-loving dog who wanted me to play ball. My mother was scared to death that I’d drown in the fishpond, so she gave strict orders that I was to not throw balls, and I was not to go near the water. I think they must have put my older sister and cousins in charge of me.
I don’t think I listened very well because when my parents came back outside, I was floating face down in the fishpond where I chased the ball. If it wasn’t for the Lord’s timing and intervention, I would have drowned. My father immediately rescued me from the fishpond, and mother was horrified and not happy with her little otter/dog-lover. I was soaked, and I knew I was in big trouble again. Fortunately, my older cousin was an otter too, and she thought it was hilarious. In fact, she laughed so hard that she got everyone laughing at me as my parents dried me off with a towel, and we quickly left the teacher party. I think I was the life of the party, but all I wanted to do was hide.
People talk about being “trauma-informed,” as if they’re smart. But I think I learned to become trauma-informed the hard way. Strike one. Strike two. Strike three. I had more fun than most people, but I paid a big price. Now my family system had more ammunition to shoot their laugh guns at me whenever we got together. I felt so much shame and embarrassment. I felt like that there must be something wrong with me. You probably got a few laughs from these first three TILT stories, but the next ones won’t be funny at all.
Did God ever save you from a near-death experience?
How is He using those experiences for His glory?