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In middle school, I began ringing handbells at church. At school I started playing baritone (or euphonium if that's what you are into). I had such dedicated teachers that they were able to petition the county for a four valve baritone for me to learn how to play. I called it the 'Silver Tuna' (did that come from Home Alone?). I joined the middle school jazz band which met outside of school hours at first playing piano and then delving into mallet percussion.
By high school I wasn't taking piano lessons anymore because marching band took over. I was in the pit as a new percussionist. At first I received all the auxiliary parts (triangles, wood block, pre-school rhythm instruments, etc), but quickly earned parts on the xylophone, bells, and vibraphone. We competed at the Bands of America competition regularly and traveled to perform in bowl game parades.
At church I was still singing and ringing. My freshman year I got a part in the play Godspell; my sister and I performed "By My Side". The following summer our choir toured New England where my sister and I performed that song regularly for unfamiliar audiences. At other points in high school, I played with a percussion ensemble and an advanced handbell choir which had 5 members play on (I believe) three octaves of bells. For a short period of time my church purchased a drum kit and allowed me to take lessons in the hopes of starting a praise band. It was a short-lived season of feeling like a rock star.
One semester I asked my band directors to allow me to drop band to take AP music theory. They were inflexible about my decision, so I quit band, took up piano lessons again, and took the AP class. My senior year culminated in piano recitals, getting a 5 on my AP exam, and being the stage manager for the musical Jesus Christ Superstar at church.
I went to Georgia Tech where there isn't a huge music program. If this counts, I drove my freshman hall bonkers by singing prog rock and alternative music at the top of my lungs like a lunatic. After failing Calc I, I almost transferred to Shorter College where I would have taken up a piano and vocal major. I had a friend at Georgia State doing their music program; he lent me a classical guitar so that I wouldn't go nuts without instruments. I had a number of good friends who taught me how to play the basic chords on guitar. Not my strongest instrument, but I played at a few open mic nights for fun.
The highlight of music in college was discovering that the music recording and audio class counted toward a computer science credit. Somehow I got into a class with some serious musicians who knew their soundboards and acoustics and whatnot. It seems unfair that I learned how to digitally record music instead of writing code in some geeky language.
This is all to say music performance and education has been a defining experience in my life. And until recently it was relegated to the dusty shelves of history. Sure, I'll occasionally play the guitar with my bluegrass allstar husband. But typically it is more discouraging than anything. I think it's how athletes past their prime must feel. I needed a miracle for this sad state to change.
And a miracle I did get. Precisely one month after Easter and that lost-cause wish, I received a free piano. It had been sitting in my brother-in-law's office at church (he's a pastor in a nearby city). The church had used them in yesteryear for Sunday school worship but had decommissioned them the way I suppose most churches do nowadays. Our own church has cd players in every room with a variety of worship albums for children. Well, I gladly received the well-worn and glorious instrument into my home.
Who has ever heard of a church giving a regular nobody a piano? Just when you think your desires are silly, small, absurd, or whatever, God goes and turns your grief into joy. I will say personally that being a mother of two small children requires sacrificing so many of the things that make me feel like me. I mentioned in my previous entry that writing has been a struggle. I used to be a much more dedicated runner. It used to not take me two years to read a 700 page book (no exaggeration...). I never landed a job in my field before my son was born. I have no regrets about becoming a mother. I just began to wonder how much of me had to be chipped away for all this new life.
It's true God takes things away. If you've made it this far, you possibly perceived my musical pride in all I accomplished in my early years. God lovingly took a good thing from me so that I didn't become rotten. More important, He took away an idol which may have prevented me from ever truly knowing Him. I sang untold songs about Him, rang untold melodies in His house, and enjoyed the laud my talents earned me. But I did it all without knowing Him. To adapt 1 Corinthians 13:1 for an illustration, I'd say: If I sing in tongues of men or of angels, but do not have God's love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal (italics indicate my changes). Paul goes on to say that I am nothing and that I gain nothing using God's gifts absent of his loving purpose. I would be worse off now if I had achieved musical success in some professional way but never acknowledged God as the source of my talents or never thanked Him for making me in such a special way.
God restores. My piano is nothing glamorous. But the miracle continued to unfold when we discovered it didn't even need to be tuned--even after being hauled in a hot truck through an Atlanta summer afternoon. I experience such delight when I sit down and discover what my fingers still remember. I get carried away when I start to play. At church when I hear a song or hymn I like, I come home and teach myself the songs. Nothing fancy but enough to sing to my heart's content. In some ways this feels more special than any of the small town limelight I had years ago. A gift from my Lord so that I may bless His name in my home. It's sweet and sincere and oh so satisfying.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.
Psalm 13:6
