Theatre's detour off I-35

What enters your brain when you see a guy wearing a fluorescent vest and holding a sign to stop traffic?  “Oh, man!”  And then, “What’s the holdup?" and "How long do we have to stay here?”  My sentiments exactly.  My theatre group recently took one of the smaller roads off I-35 here in Texas and came upon a car halted behind a worker with one of those fluorescent vests and one of those same traffic signs.  So we halted too.  Meanwhile several sirens sounded, and an ambulance and other emergency vehicles followed in quick pursuit.  Then as things seemed idle for a while, my director asked me to walk up to ask the worker what’s happening, and he informed that one of his fellow construction workers had been hit but that our line of traffic should be released in a minute, so I walked back to our vehicle and let everyone know.  And while sitting in the passenger seat, I was humbled.  How uncaring I had been!  Here someone this man knows and works with was hit by a car, and all I cared about was the length of our wait?  Then I saw the worker walking toward us to explain they’re closing the road after all, so we needed to turn around.  This time, I’m thankful to say, my words were different.  He delivered the news, and I replied, “Sir, I’m sorry about your co-worker.  We prayed for him while waiting in our car.”  I kept thinking how gracious the Lord was to give me a second opportunity.  And indeed my prayer in the car was sincere.  John 15:12 says, "My command is this:  Love each other as I have loved you."  May I remember, and may we remember, how the Lord loves people more than time schedules.  May we love as He does.

Hospital's oboe voice

What a sweet surprise.  Never before had I played oboe for my fellow volunteers.  Even receiving the invitation to play, I could feel my heart flutter because it’d been years since playing at a hospital.  Learning how our volunteer coordinator likes to display different talents from within the group, it seemed oboe had not been part of any previous luncheon.  Would it be too loud?  Too soft?  Too piercing a sound?  I endeavored to arrive a little early and set up, and when the clock hit 11:30, I moved toward my music chair.  “Over the Rainbow” was fun.  “Amazing Grace” warmed my heart.  “My Favorite Things” and “Simple Gifts” seemed to draw favorable reaction.  And then came the one song I anticipated special delight in playing.  In honor of my friend who cuddles the babies in NICU, I played “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” as it’s her favorite set of lyrics to sing over our little ones, and she happily tells how they respond with a smile.  The whole occasion that day brought such joy for me.  To thank our many volunteers for their hours and weeks and years of service, having asked the Lord to sing freely through my oboe and to let nothing hinder His voice, it was a privilege to take part.  Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  As a child can find rest in the sound of her parent's song, I love the idea of my Father singing and the thought of extending that restfulness to others.  When a lady smiled to say she heard the oboe all the way down the hall, I hadn’t known the sound would reach that far, but I trust it was the Lord making His way to her ears.