Different stage, different venue

As a little girl, I watched from the edge of the living room as my mother played her violin, hours and hours a day.  It was not "practicing" to her, but being absorbed into the music. Playing exercises, scales and difficult passages over and over again was anything but mundane to her.  She was energized by it.  Practice was not about how to play the notes better, but how she grew to love the music even more.

When she was practicing, she was in a different universe, oblivious to everything around her:  dogs barking, my brothers racing through the house, even something burning in the oven.  "Just give me a few more minutes," she would call out. "I'm almost done."  But she rarely was.

As she practiced and subsequently performed, she heard sounds and patterns that none of us would ever be aware of.  But she could also see, beyond our own vision of things, as I only found out after she had passed away.  She possessed a neurological condition called synesthesia, in which she could actually see colors associated with the notes.

At first, I wondered why she never talked about her synesthesia.  But one morning, I was suddenly struck by the realization that she never shared about synesthesia with me, because she must have thought everyone saw colors when they heard music.

From the time she was a little girl, being successful as a musician was how she was going to make it in this world.  She came from very humble beginnings.  Her father died after a long illness when she was still a teenager.  Her mother kept food on the table by teaching piano lessons.  Mom played live music on the radio to work her way through college.  She turned down an opportunity to come to Nashville as a member of the Grand Ol' Opry radio show, because her sights were set on a bigger stage.  She moved instead to New York City.

Through the years and four children and a few moves between Chicago and the East coast, God began using her music as her way of loving people.  God provided her a different kind of stage and different kinds of venues.  She kept her violin by her side and pulled it out in the most unexpected times and unlikely places to bless someone. She played in churches, nursing homes, hospitals, garden clubs, and elementary schools to encourage youngsters.  (She would not ask children, "Do you play an instrument?" but "What instrument do you play?"  Music was not an optional activity in her eyes.)

And when my dad was out of work for a long season, she taught violin to fledgling high school students in our living room, literally night and day.  She never made much money at it, but she kept us going, and she loved a lot of kids through the angst of life.

When she passed away almost fifteen years ago, as I was going through her piles of papers, I came across an index card on which she had written, "I always wanted to be famous, but a lot better things happened because I am not."

I was reminded of that message this morning, when I read this passage of Oswald Chambers from the early 1900s:  "We must never put our dreams of success as God's purpose for us;  His purpose may be exactly the opposite."  

What brings glory to God?  Watching my mom, I learned that nothing is insignificant in His sight.

Today, December 29, would have been mom's 100th birthday.

May I be faithful to what she taught me about life, how she loved God, and the soundtrack of grace  she engraved in the lives of so many. 


One generation shall commend
            Your works to another,
and shall declare
            Your mighty acts.

                       Psalm 145. 4

Happy birthday, Mom!

Just say it

After making a transaction at Costco, the clerk wished me, "Have a great day."
I responded, "Merry Christmas!"

She looked at me for a moment, surrounded in the store by decorations, gifts, even holiday music playing in the background, as if it hadn't occurred to her the reason for this stampede of customers.

And suddenly, it was as if great joy suddenly emerged and entered the equation, "Why, thank you!  You too!" she said.

For a brief moment, it was about Christmas.

A few days ago in church, we sang, "Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born!"

And yet, we are negligent in saying anything at all.  Has our culture become so secularized --indeed have we-- that blessing others with even the words "Merry Christmas!" is out of the ordinary?  Are we that afraid of being different? Or are we that oblivious to bearing witness to Him, even in this season?

In our corporate worship, we come before God to confess what we have done and what we have left undone.  Even what we say can make a difference in someone's life.  More than we can know.  "What if...?" I had said something?

Does my life, my vocabulary, what I do and say --even my salutations --embrace and reveal the reality of what Christ has done in me?

And all the shepherds returned,
glorifying and praising God
for all they had heard and seen...

                     Luke 2. 20

God never intended for us
       to keep His glory for ourselves.
And that goes far beyond
             how we decorate,
  but seeping radically in how we love others,
           what we do,
      and even infiltrates what we say.

What kind of overwhelmed?

What kind of overwhelmed
   do I choose this Christmas?

Shopping for presents?

Or seeking His Presence?

Behold a Virgin shall conceive
       and bear a son
and call His name Immanuel
  which means
           God with us.

            Matthew 1. 23

Whether I am aware of it ...or not

A few weeks ago, my husband and I found a pocket of time in the late afternoon, near the ending of the day.  It was not enough time to launch into yet another project, but there were still a few minutes to make the most of the day still lingering.

We jumped in the car and drove up to the highest point near us in the waning light of day.  It was getting dark, and it was getting cold and windy, but there was something we yearned to see.

When we arrived, others had the same idea and were already out of their cars and waiting.  The sun slipped slowly through the sky, the colors intensified, and even in this small gathering, no one could speak for the awe and the glory of God before us.

And I thought, "Oh, what we would have missed."  And then, almost immediately, "Oh, what we do miss most days, because we are just not looking."  God displays His magnificence twice a day, that which only He can do.  This immense beauty in the bookends of the day, sunrise and sunset, remind us of His goodness and His glory all the way through.

His Presence permeates the skies, and my life, whether I am aware of it....or not.  He reveals Himself throughout the day.  Am I seeking Him in it?  Do I even have an inkling of the extraordinary in the ordinary all around me?  Even in what I do not see, even in what I do not understand.

It is good to give thanks to the LORD,
to sing praises to Your name,
                      O Most High;
to declare Your steadfast love
                                 in the morning,
and Your faithfulness by night.

                            Psalm 92. 1-2

We are surrounded
        by His steadfast love
        and His faithfulness,

     knowing God is in this. 

No matter what.

He reminds us
                 day by day.



Pray continually.
Live faithfully.
Love well.
Practice grace.

Thank A Saint Day

There is still a half bag of chocolate candy in the pantry, left over from last evening's parade of neighborhood children knocking at our door.  When three actually-very-polite junior highers rang the bell at almost 8.30, the streets dark and the air in the frigid 30s, Bill lightened our remaining supply with huge handfuls into their bags.

Last night was Halloween, which historically was the "hallowed eve," that is, before America saw a great opportunity to sell more candy.  The hallowed eve is the eve of the holy, the night before All Saints Day, designed to commemorate the faithful people who have gone before us, those who have blazed the trails and shown us what following Christ looks like in real life.  This morning, all masks are off.

Think about the saints in your life, their stories, their writings, their witness, their journeys, their faithfulness no matter where God placed them.   Think about those amazing -- and very real-- people who have made a mark in your own life.  I have a shelves of underlined books that have helped me immensely through the years to point me to Jesus.  I have strong memories of those unsung --mostly unknown-- spiritual heroes in my life who showed me how to walk with Jesus, who prayed for me (even before I was born), who were faithful to God in what only appeared to be insignificant times and even when they thought no one was watching.

And if they are still alive, thank the saints in your life in some way today:  a written note, a phone call, a text, even praying for them.  Today, you are the CEO:  the Chief Encouragement Officer.  As the late Oswald Chambers (one of those on my list of departed saints) stated:  God rarely allows a person to see how great a blessing he is to others.

But we have the opportunity to let them know today, to encourage, to honor, to show them our gratefulness for their lives and their ongoing relationship with God. "God has used you incredibly in my life."

Therefore,
    encourage one another
and build one another up,
just as you are doing.

               1 Thessalonians 5. 11