Musically bridged for Valentine's Day

My violinist friend called a couple of weeks ago.  Hearing her voice always makes me happy, and on this particular morning she inquired, “Can you play oboe at an assisted living center on Valentine’s Day?”  The timing of her request was quite curious to me, and my brain instantly retraced some recent steps.  The prior week, I had opened my oboe case for the first time in 2 months.  It took me several days to act on the idea, probably because reacquainting after an absence usually involves some pain.  The mouth muscles need time to regain their groove and find rhythm with the breathing and the fingers.  Really I don’t dissect the problem each time, but suffice it to say that playing after an absence can easily find something feeling out of sync.  Yet interestingly this occasion was different.  My embouchure didn’t experience the expected muscle strains.  The breathing felt comfortable, and there was a fluidity of motion seemingly already reset.  Even my somewhat careless choice of reed didn’t inhibit, as I rather randomly pulled from the pile.  Playing brought fun and pleasure to the afternoon, and I was amazed at how the Lord had bridged the gap on my account.  And when answering my friend’s call, ordinarily I might have doubted that my embouchure would be strong enough to play for a 2-hour event, but the Lord had already shown that my chops would be ready.  He had guided the whole process, so that I could respond to my friend with a resounding “Yes!”  And on that Valentine’s Day, as we played our event, I loved every minute of meeting new people and recognizing some familiar smiles.  It was a wonderful ceremony that celebrated more than 700 years of marriage in total.  It was a display of wedding photos and even a bridal gown from many decades back.  Indeed it was a blessing of the Lord that just happened to include oboe, for which He so carefully prepared me, even while I sat unaware.

Narrowly & theatrically timed

Last week I witnessed an amazing feat.  Still today I shake my head to recount how close I came to performing a new theater script without any semblance of rehearsal.  Our group had met all kinds of complications.  We encountered a medical emergency, a legal emergency, and somehow a variety of non-emergencies that kept disallowing all 3 of us to meet.  The circumstances didn’t even make sense sometimes, yet they kept happening.  Put it all together, and we were in a tight spot.  Actually I was in a tight spot.  My fellow actresses had been performing this script for lots of years, and they knew every inch of it very well.  I was the only newbie.  I felt certain all along that the Lord would provide, but anxiety crept in as I didn’t know how He would provide.  If all my lines fell perfectly in place, it would be by His provision.  If I fell on my face and loused up everything, I felt the Lord would somehow use that for His glory as well.  Still I read the Bible because I wanted to hear the Lord's voice and sit in His company.  Certain emails seemed so wonderfully comforting and perfectly tailored for my situation.  And I kept hearing encouraging songs on KLOVE that spoke into my circumstances.  Each time my heart raced in panic, the Lord gave me new calm, and I loved many family and friends for praying.  Finally our days were running out.  Weeks of interferences had left us with only a narrow window of possibility.  It was less than 24 hours before our performances, and amazingly all 3 of us could rehearse.  Such timeframe could appear last-minute to us humans, but if God put our rehearsal on His calendar for that Thursday afternoon, then it wasn’t last-minute at all.  And when our director told me we could finally rehearse, I sat motionless for a while.  I held utmost amazement for the Lord because only He had known the depth of my anxiety, and only He could make possible what had been impossible for weeks.  To say I was immensely thankful would be an understatement.  Actually I need to underscore the word immensely and draw it in bright colors with curlicues and stars and add the shiniest glitter on top.  The message in our play had touched on character traits and obedience, and here I was in the middle of living out my obedience to the Lord.  Just because the winds blow strong in life doesn’t mean I automatically abandon ship.  Right there in my anguish, the Lord swooped in for the rescue.  As He says in Matthew 28:20, He is with us always.  And that notion of falling on my face did come true, for in my desperation, He led me wonderfully to fall into prayer.

A misfit Pebbles

This old Pebbles doll.  She has a mysterious spot of white paint on her forehead.  Her whole face really could use a good washing.  She’s missing many tufts of her original red hair from having been picked up by that straight-up ponytail she always wore, and the bit of hair she still has would certainly benefit from some patient combing.  Her shirt sleeves are too big.  Her pant legs almost fall off.  You can see she landed in some clothes from another doll who's only vaguely near her same size.  This Pebbles has seen some years and some decades, and she looks a bit disheveled.  Maybe even misfit.  And that’s actually why I love her.  When the Lord first led me to teach high school choir, my music experience had been primarily band and orchestra, and the choir idea didn't seem to be a perfect fit.  When the Lord called me to ride the city buses, I didn’t know how the bus system worked.  When the Lord led my husband and me to study the Bible on Sundays, we were one of the few married couples in a much larger class called Singles.  When the Lord led us to our Spanish congregation, I didn’t speak too much Spanish.  When He called me to write a book, I was not a confident writer.  Somewhere along the way in all these situations, I felt like I didn't fit.  And when He called me to theater a year and a half ago, I arrived at the audition entirely inexperienced, braced for the worst, hopeful for the best, altogether really uncertain of what would happen.  A few hours later, I returned home with two small acting parts and a look of complete shock when giving report to my husband.  But it was actually a good shock.  It was a case of “Oh, wow, this ride is crazy, and actually it’s fun, but I honestly don’t know where this theater thing is going!”  According to Hebrews 2:10, God saw fit to make Jesus perfect through suffering.  Verse 2:14 talks about Jesus sharing in our humanity.  So if Jesus suffered in stepping out to share in people’s lives, and if I aim to follow Jesus, then I too can expect to encounter some suffering.  Whether nervous stomach or mental pressure, it's uncomfortable, and it's suffering nonetheless.  It's circumstances we wouldn't have chosen on our own, all for the greater purposes the Lord lays out.  And so I want to be willing to be uncomfortable.  I want to be willing to feel misfit, for He will at some point supply a joy that leaps the highest hurdle, and therein lies my peace.  He reveals the perfect fit for all us misfits.  Even a painted smile on an old Pebbles doll can remind of the joy the Lord gives.