Life unto the oboe

These moments of panic.  Countless times I’ve picked up my oboe, then my reed, just hoping.  Will the reed be ready?  My little Snoopy jelly jar has served well in holding a half-inch of water for soaking a reed, but after years of playing, these times of panic still exist.  Often switching from piano, I lift the reed from the water, asking “Lord, may You sing through this instrument.”  Testing the reed softly, there’s no sound.  It’s too tight, disallowing good vibration, causing my heart to race.  But I rely on His answer to an earlier prayer about whether to play this day at all.  I risk the human uncertainties, remembering vividly the thrill of Him having sung through this instrument before.  So I gather air to breathe into the horn.  And yes, yes, yes, there He is!  The Lord has sung the first notes!  To know His rescue, I am relieved.  To experience the Holy Spirit filling and flourishing, I am in awe.  Again He has brought death to life in a new and very personal way for me.  Proverbs 8:35 tells us, “For whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord.”  I treasure His presence.

Russian radio thrill

I almost didn’t recognize the moment.  Over the radio in the car, I heard “How Great Is Our God,” though I’d heard it lots of times before.  Passion’s world edition melts my heart every time, yet I’ve never really tried to understand any of the languages other than English and Spanish, just assuming they were out of my reach.  Then suddenly I caught a vague recognition of two words.  “Did he say ‘Наш Бог’?”  Such a thrill to even hope that my study of Russian was translating into real life.  Arriving home, I pulled up YouTube, and yes, the singer says “Наш Бог так велик,” which means ‘How great is our God.'  Well, this is huge news for me.  This is so big that my heart can hardly handle the blessing.  When any of us follows the Lord into something, our eyes are open wide for His leading.  We watch closely for Him to cue our next step.  I knew the Lord wouldn’t leave me stranded, but I also didn’t know how the details of learning Russian would live out.  So these moments found my heart leaping into praise of how He was so sweetly encouraging me to keep studying.  Certainly He has guided me all along.  Certainly He tuned my ears to the lyrics today when ordinarily they would’ve tuned out.  Psalm 147:6 tells us, “The Lord sustains the humble . . .”  And I am overjoyed and thankful and trusting of Him all the more to sustain me along His path.  May you too be blessed in seeing Him at work in your life.

Flood of Russian reassurance

For almost 2 years, the idea to learn Russian has stayed with me.  I haven’t known why exactly, except that when meeting Holocaust Survivors in 2015, the Lord gave me a deep love for them.  And they spoke Russian.  So as part of loving and serving them, it seems natural to want to share in their language.  And as I’ve prayed for the Lord to guide me, He’s recently revealed a couple of things.  He showed my husband and me to return to the Survivors in Israel in February.  He also introduced me to some delightful new friends, reminding me to not become so focused on any one future event that I lose sight of blessings along the road.  When taking a local community education class, I met someone for whom I’m so grateful because she continues even now to teach me more of the language.  Through italki.com, I met Russian-speakers via Skype who also are helping me learn.  And in both instances, these acquaintances have become friendships and have brought blessings beyond language.  There’s been opportunity to learn about life in other parts of the world and pray for these new friends and share the name of Christ.  How sweet is that!  And still as I’ve been tempted to feel frustrated at learning the language so slowly, the Lord set my ears to the song “Flood the Earth.”  Just imagining His glory and power pushing out darkness and fear and pain, as the lyrics say, I suddenly focus more on the pleasure of His larger purposes and less on any difficulty of learning a single language.  The Lord will indeed accomplish His purposes.  There's no thwarting that.  In whatever way He chooses to use the Russian language with me and the Survivors, with these new friends, with whomever else, He will supernaturally make it happen.  My job is to diligently seek Him.  Philippians 1:6 tell us, “. . . he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”  And it is there that you and I can be thankful to find peace in the Lord's love.

Prayer for a song

One Friday, my friend prayed, “Lord, if it would please You, would you have Linda bring ‘Give Me Jesus’ tomorrow?”  My precious friend simply asked for a song.  The next morning, about 50 of us gathered from different parts of the city, both near and far.  Food had been purchased and carefully apportioned into brown paper bags, just eager to supply for anyone’s need.  Clothes had been donated, now hung on the racks and placed neatly on the shelves.  Among givers and recipients, we awaited the Holy Spirit to unite us.  Guests signed in.  Smiles were offered, with prayers ascending all the while.  My husband lifted his guitar from the case and strummed his first chord.  I can’t say my voice sang too well because I’ve been dealing with a throat problem, but my heart surely sang.  As we came upon "Give Me Jesus," I felt my heart leap.  To look into my friend’s eyes, having learned that she’d prayed for us to bring it, my heart and my whole body felt wonderfully full.  Remembering how my husband and I sat on the couch the night before and selected songs, completely unaware of our friend's prayer at the time, I realized the Lord was uniting giver and recipient then too.  Such thrill and such humility washes over.  His gifts are simple, yet immense.  And my blessing in all this was even somewhat tangential to my friend’s initial prayer.  James 1:17 says, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  Thank you, Lord.

Intravenous puppetry

My, oh my, how Christ loves children!  I’d been praying about our next puppet trip to the hospital, and the idea recurred to make a cardboard theater.  I found a scrap piece of cardboard, sprayed it with some old white paint, and tried cutting out a puppet window and gluing down some leftover red ribbon as trim.  A gray remnant of fabric and a piece of doweling lying waste in the garage provided for the theater's curtain.  Days passed, I continued praying, and one Saturday at dinner, some friends showed me photos of some very inventive spoon puppets.  Now I’m all keen on getting home to see if I still have that old wooden spoon I never use!  My new puppet partner made us some medical puppets with popsicle-stick handles, plus we still had the bigger puppets I sewed last year, and for music we now had an extra flute that another friend gave me.  Also we have a Little Red Riding Hood doll trio on loan from a friend from church.  So this trip to the hospital was looking a bit different than previous.  Many people we loved meeting in the hospital hallways, and some for only short periods in the playroom, yet there was one little girl who stayed with us the whole time.  It’s with her that I saw the Lord illustrating His love in detail.  Only He could know the pleasures of this little girl's heart and prepare us accordingly.  At first, she sat quiet and watched puppets appear one by one.  She grinned when we sang and eventually giggled and asked to strum the ukulele and hold our extra flute.  Then this tiny voice piped up to announce she wanted to be puppeteer, so we made room for her IV to roll alongside her behind the theater, and lo and behold, she donned a smile signaling new command of the playroom!  Puppets found new voice and new dance, and as she designed her own paper bag puppet, I marveled at the extent to which the Lord provided for this little girl.  She remembered most all of our puppets’ names and took special fancy to our new spoons Paul and Cindy.  And from our collection of medical puppets, she had a fondness for the puppet with his own IV, which perfectly matched her own.  In Mark 10:14, Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  And so I thank the Lord for His capacities to see far and wide and to love to great extents.  This day we invited our guests to each draw a picture on our cardboard theater, and they sent us home with a souvenir we treasure.  Thank you, Lord, for answering our prayer to prepare the way. 

Drenched & detoured

Have you ever experienced something just too unusual to be human?  Maybe some sort of remarkable timing that made you pinch yourself to see if it's real?  One Saturday in December, we awoke to that very thing.  The alarm buzzed at 6:30, and we grabbed the guitar, our music, and a couple of granola bars to hop in the car.  Without news of the extent of the night’s rainfall, we knew nothing about road closures.  From the highway, we saw lower roads with cars stranded.  We ran into flashing lights and road blocks, and when we hit a major detour, I highly suspected we’d be late for music.  Possibly too, we might be absent entirely.  And my heart sank to imagine the precious faces of people we'd miss:  friends and guests who give and receive food, clothes, and the love of the Lord.  But along this detour, I started remembering driving this way once to a funeral.  I recalled no low sections of road that would flood, so my mind sighed in relief, though we soon encountered a train, but there the Lord reminded us of another alternate route we’d taken to a different funeral.  Now I'm smiling huge to realize we weren't going to be late for music after all!  Quite amazing, really.  Considering our trek was across the city, from far north to north central to east side, we were amazed at how the Lord directed traffic in our favor.  And as my heart bubbled in glee, I kept realizing more.  While praying 2 days before, I felt inclined to prepare Rita Springer’s song “I Have to Believe.”  I charted the chords and loaded the piano Friday night, and now it’s crossing my mind that if indeed the Lord imparted that song for today, then actually no amount of torrential rain could've ever thwarted the singing of it, meaning that the night's rain was never really a deterrent but maybe just twisted into temptation for us to lose focus.  Still too, there was the added blessing of remembering I didn’t even have this piano till 2 years ago when a friend said the Lord inclined her to give it to me from her grandson.  How sweet is that!  I felt wonderfully saturated in blessing, just immensely loved in the details.  I stood in awe of how the Lord set our sequence of events in motion, drawing from our travel on these detoured roads in years past, yet purposing for a song today.  Even toward the importance of attending funerals, I felt a nudge of encouragement.  Second Corinthians 3:5 tells us, “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.”  And so may you too experience the joy of seeing the Lord at work around you.  So precise is His orchestration.  You’re in my prayers.

Different Jericho, different trumpet

A different kind of idea ran through my head.  Actually it made me a bit nervous, in a good way.  New ideas tend to do that, at least the ones the Lord plants in me.  So I was certain to ask Him, “Lord, is this of You?”  I’d never taken my flute to the abortion center before.  My time there had ebbed and flowed over the years due to work schedule and various things, and lately I’d been driving there on Tuesdays to pray.  I occupy the public sidewalk in front, between the parking lot and the street, in case anyone reconsiders their decision and wants a prayer companion or a listening ear.  And so now, as I'm thinking through this new idea, which is to take my flute and play “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” I realize it's a rather simple task.  Yet I wondered, “What will people think of the flute?  Will someone say I'm too loud?  Will they tell me to quit playing?  What if I disrupt someone else's prayer?"  Temptation came in many forms, yet I decided to take the flute with me.  I knew the honks and screeches of the nearby street could easily drown out my tiny melody.  No one but me and the Lord might hear the song.  As it turned out, one girl smiled to greet me, “Oh, are you playing today?  I wish I thought of something like that.”  Then another chimed in, “I’m so glad you brought your music.”  And as it seemed the Lord had nestled me within the encouragement of others, I proceeded to play unto Him.  I loved Him for walking with me down this new road.  That day and many Tuesdays since then, I've recalled the story of Jericho.  In Joshua 6, the Lord instructs Joshua to march with his men around the city and sound their trumpets.  Certainly my flute is not the first instrument the Lord has called to purpose.  Certainly my circumstances are not the first to be viewed as different or strange.  And as Joshua's obedience to the Lord led him to victory, we can be confident our obedience will yield blessing as well.

Lyrically stifled

Back in June, we had some curious musical things happen.  I remember connecting eyes with my husband as confusion whirled, and he knew I needed him to step in.  Why couldn’t I sing the next stanza?  This was a song we’ve led for years.  Yet he moved toward the mic and carried us into the chorus.  Guitar and song fell back into place, and we kept going.  But then it happened again, only in reverse.  This time it was my husband whose words fell unexpected.  He’s speaking between songs, and my heart begins to flutter.  Somehow the fluttering becomes panic, yet still I see no astonished faces in the congregation.  Perhaps the Lord is garnering only our attention.  But what’s going on?   Why wouldn’t my eyes let me move past that first stanza?  We were scheduled to sing again in 2 more weeks, and as that day approached and unfolded, the sequence of events proved similar.  What was it about Wednesdays?  Singing on Saturdays brought none of this awkwardness.  So I told our friend who schedules Wednesday music to hold off on scheduling us for a while.  We would finish out July as she had already included us, but for August onward, I wanted to be available to the Lord.  I needed Him to settle my heart.  And soon a very interesting conversation came.  As back in May a friend had posed the idea of conducting parenting classes to help some younger moms, and as weeks had passed since then, she wanted to know now if I could host the classes 4:00 – 6:00 on Wednesdays.  And right there I’m pretty sure I froze.  My ears, my brain, and my heart all took a sudden leap to rejoice.  Was this what the Lord was preparing me for?  Had He been clearing my music commitments on Wednesdays so I’d be available to conduct these classes?  It’s interesting that never again did we encounter any awkward musical moments.  Fulfilling our commitments for July, it seemed once I decided to decline any further music scheduling, the Lord had no need to garner my attention anymore.  He made His point.  And our parenting classes have been happening for 4 months now on different days of the week, but most consistently on Wednesdays.  And so I thank the Lord for those awkward moments back in June.  As His ways can be mysterious, they are perfect.  When we earnestly seek Him, He makes sure we find Him.  Second Corinthians 3:3 tells us we are letters from Christ “written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”  Each of our experiences with Him is uniquely fashioned.  Each translates to us and to the world His desire to supply for our every step.  What is the Holy Spirit writing on your heart?

Musical redemption

What could go wrong?  It’s just a voicemail.  Just listen real quick.  But in actuality, the message threw me a curve.  It rattled me.  The delight I’d known 5 minutes ago had been invaded.  And the evening that began with thrilling moments musically now held tainted air.  We had met with friends for new music—new instrumentation, new combinations, new blends.  Having waited more than a year for this to happen, and having prayed about joining them on oboe in particular, I figure my giddiness showed.  Joy ran deep.  Would we also use piano?  What about voices?  Still some questions, yet we met, and things fell in place almost effortlessly.  Humility was key for setting such a worshipful tone.  But then after rehearsal was when the voicemail came.  A whole big complicated message that rattled the rafters.  So I stepped away to find quiet.  “Lord, settle my heart,” I prayed.  “Let nothing keep me from You.  If Satan is twisting and destroying this, may You prevent him.”  And what ensued was amazing.  Music restarted, and there was a point in one song where I played an F.  On oboe, it’s the F on the top line of the treble clef.  This F had something different about it.  The way the pitch centered.  The strength of air pressing in.  The nuances of the note I knew from having played thousands and thousands of Fs over the years.  The Lord gift-wrapped that F with the prettiest paper and glittery bow.  In that F, He returned to me the calm and intimacy I treasured before the voicemail.  All the while playing, my heart beamed for knowing His faithfulness in answering my prayer and coming to my rescue once again.  Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  May we never doubt Him.  May you and I both call upon Him.  May you experience His love today.  

MiniDisc mania

Gasp!  What just happened?!*  My whole body froze.  My theatre director and I looked at each other.  Yes, that was the Lord answering our prayer.  And in dramatic form.  All these years our MiniDisc player had stayed alive.  And when something keeps working, you tend to leave it alone and not interfere.  But now our theatre group felt a bit panicked.  Pressing as many combinations of the MiniDisc’s buttons as we knew, yet finding none to any avail, and rechecking our electronics across the board, we finally resigned ourselves to the idea of performing without music.  Saddened to think students wouldn't experience the full thrill of the chase scene, imagining them without music for the dances and songs as well, we needed to move forward.  I’d walked out front to explain to a teacher about lighting during performances.  I saw a single-file line of children approaching the stage area.  Time was tight.  We had reset behind the backdrop, yet while glancing at the MiniDisc player a final time, suddenly we saw something new.  The digital numbers for the music started counting off.  Music appeared to be processing.  We soon heard piano sounds overhead, and that's when my director and I looked at each other.  Yes, this is really happening!  The Lord breathed life into the old MiniDisc player we thought sang its last note.  And without thinking twice, all of who I was in that moment knelt before the Lord.  There in front of the MiniDisc player, I gave thanks for this sweet gift of the Lord.  It wasn’t that ours was any life-threatening situation, for we certainly could’ve performed without the music.  Yet He chose to answer our prayer.  I sensed it was simply because He loves to bless those who are His.  And how I love Him all the more for delighting to provide.  He is alive.  He is our Father.  In the form of Christ, He walked this earth and is our Savior.  As the Holy Spirit, He is our constant Counselor and Comforter of the heart.  Jesus tells us in John 14:19, “. . . Because I live, you also will live.”  And as I smile to relive these moments at this school, and as I love to re-experience the burst of joy becoming my own gasp, I testify that the Lord enlivens me.  May you and I recognize the blessings He bestows upon us today.

Wedding table

The voice mail said, “Linda, call me, please.”  So I did.  And what I received was a precious invitation to play oboe at a friend’s wedding.  Entirely elated, I accepted.  Feeling immensely blessed, I replied, “Yes, we’ll be there.”  Yet there were more blessings to come.  After the wedding ceremony, we enjoyed dinner with others in the party, and as we meandered through topics of job, food, and travel, I soon found my heart fluttering.  One lady posed, “What do we do when my husband retires?”  Then her husband chimed in, saying he didn’t want to sit around retired and doing nothing.  And as the comment seemed to fit, I added, “The Lord is always at work.  He has roles for us.  Just ask Him what to do.”  A statement so simple, really.  But it’s crucial to remember that not every household speaks the name of the Lord.  And in that moment of my heart fluttering, maybe it was nervousness creeping in, or maybe temptation to discourage the speaking of His name.  Nevertheless I had options to weigh and a decision to make.  How will these people respond?  Do I risk any adverse reaction?  Do I follow through, or do I bow out?  Philippians 2:9-10 tells about Jesus, “Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”  So I determine to not fear people's reactions.  May we trust the Lord to pattern our steps.  May we love people enough to be willing to share the name of Christ.  May we each press through our fluttering.

Greetings from Israel

Hello, Everybody!  I missed you while we were in Israel.  Ours was a trip to serve Holocaust survivors, and oh how the Lord blessed all around.  When people meet, when countries meet, you never know what will happen exactly.  To visit these precious survivors just melted my heart.  Hearing their stories, looking into their eyes, I felt my streams of tears turning into rivers.  I asked our Russian translator to convey that these tears were not in sadness but in joy of sitting in their homes and realizing the Lord bringing this call to Israel to fruition.  Connecting through music and receiving their prayer requests simply showered blessing that my body couldn’t contain.  And delivering quilted gifts that our American friends lovingly sewed brought new humility.  To say the scope of God’s work is vast is an understatement.  For this occasion, He orchestrated people from Denmark, Siberia, Holland, and America to all arrive the same country, the same city, the same street at the same time.  And we’re humbled again to see how He’s using this one trip to impact co-workers, friends, and family.  He weaves emotion and thought and inclines the heart, all to bring blessing that ripples out to touch so many.  Our God is big.  And so I pray that you tell of the experiences He gives you.  May your stories brighten the days of those you meet.  Jesus said, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.  And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19)

To sing Wednesday

Allergies.  Ugh.  My husband and I were scheduled for music on a Wednesday night, and this itch in my throat wouldn’t quit.  Rehearsing at home led only to gagging and more gagging, causing us to lose all momentum of the songs.  How could a mere itch be so crippling to a voice?  Have you ever been so ready to pour into something, and then there’s a snag in the pour spout?  In my case, the itch kept snagging the voice.  So I asked the Lord to allow my throat a way to sing.  “Lord, may You give freedom for air to flow.  May You protect my voice.  May Your voice sing freely through mine.”  And so at 7:00 we began.  The first song . . . the second song . . . the third . . . and the fourth.  All the while there's a joy deepening inside me and utter amazement for how the Lord is preventing any inhibitions to my voice.  Yet afterward as I took a seat with the congregation, what happened?  I started coughing.  The itch returned and so did the gag, though just briefly, as if the Lord kindly reminded, “I'm here.  You asked Me to guard your voice during the songs, and I did.”  It was the timing, the precise moment after singing.  I hadn’t even fully sat in the chair before needing to exit the room, so the cough wouldn't interrupt everyone else.  That brief itch lent me to reflect on all the allergy troubles before prayer versus the peace the Lord offered after prayer.  And so I ask you, as a reader here today, “How do you need the Lord?  Do you ask Him for a voice to sing or for something different?”  He loves to hear the call of your heart.  I have prayed for you already.

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. 

Personal delivery for Holocaust survivors

Why would a customer walk into a sewing store and give away her personal possession?  More specifically, why would a lady bring her sewing machine from home and ask the store employee to give it away to a beginner sewing student?  The whole scene is unusual.  As quilting started for me on such unlikely terms, and as it’s grown to yield some surprisingly pleasing fabric designs, and as it’s brought some sweet new friendships that I treasure, it seems also to be leading toward a trip to Israel.  And to personally deliver quilts as hand-crafted heirlooms for Holocaust survivors there, what a huge blessing and honor.  The idea for the trip entered my brain and recurred enough times that my husband and I filled out applications to work with my friend’s ministry, only to have her tell me over the phone that they’d been praying for musicians to come.  Interestingly the music question on the application was only a small portion of page 2 of a total 5 pages, and it provided only a single blank for answering.  We listed guitar, oboe, voice, and some other possibilities, having no inkling of how the ministry office had been praying.  And actually my husband wasn’t relishing the notion of traipsing through airports with a big, bulky guitar, so I asked my friend if he should bring his guitar.  She replied that someone recently donated a guitar to their ministry, and my husband could be first in line to play.  How sweet of the Lord to keep making the trip more attractive!  Now it’s not just a story of quilting but also music.  That part about their prayer keeps replaying in my head, and the jaw of my heart figuratively drops each time I recount it.  Numbers 22 tells of God speaking through the unlikely mouth of a donkey.  First Kings 17 explains how God sent ravens to deliver bread and meat to Elijah.  Today the Lord prepares a girl who knows little about sewing to become a quilter for the sake of Holocaust survivors in Israel, taking with her a husband whom the Lord inspired as well and some music He's been growing in both of them for years, also connecting her with some sweet sewing friends to lend aid, and supplying her with a sewing machine from someone she never met.  We’re thrilled already, and we haven’t yet set foot on the plane!  May He prepare us all with insight to recognize His sometimes unusual, unique circumstances.  May we not miss any ounce of the joy He offers.  What a magnificent God we serve.  What a magnificent God serves us.

Risen phone on the third day

My husband asked, “Are you sad?  Are you mad?”  I didn’t know how to answer.  A cloud of silence hovered in the car after our bewildering rehearsal.  Things had flip-flopped from the week before.  Play this; sing that.  New people; old people.  Yes; no.  What was happening?  And to think back and remember my giddiness in anticipating the fun we would have!  But here’s the good part.  As I pondered, as I tried to talk things through with my husband, as I prayed for the Lord to take away the anxiety, here comes a curious phone call.  Now 3 days after the tumultuous occasion, one very sweet voice offers some very encouraging words, and suddenly my anxiety starts to melt.  Remnants of fret that had tucked into the tiniest of corners began to dissolve.  Because of the way the conversation eased my whole body, I knew God orchestrated that phone call.  He was comforting me.  He had seen me hurting.  What kindness, and how intimately personal He is.  We had opted to quietly observe and not raise a ruckus at the rehearsal, and in His gentle way, He let us know He too saw every anxious moment.  Days later, the final event was fabulous.  All the sweeter, in fact, for having experienced the inner turmoil and then His love delivering through that phone.  Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God . . .”  Yes, indeed He’s my God then, now, and always.

Coffeehouse catastrophe?

Aaahhhhhh!  What did I say?!#*  I panicked.  Two friends invited the new barista to come to church, but what inadvertent words had slipped out of my mouth?  We like to arrive the coffeehouse early to see what's going on and maybe talk a little before we play.  This time I heard the barista call my name, and his finger pointed to the calendar listing our names for music that night.  But there was also another name.  And a silent gasp fluttered across my throat.  Really it came when I imagined friends rushing across town to join us, and I felt bad they might enter the door and realize they rushed for nothing because we weren’t even playing yet.  The barista offered to ask the other guitarist to reschedule, but my husband reassured, “Don’t worry.  Let him play; then we’ll take a turn.”  So we spent the next minutes greeting friends and explaining, and honestly we enjoyed the longer-than-usual time to visit at the start.  I remember saying aloud, “Maybe the Lord has something in this.”  We sang a favorite Matt Maher tune, and the night filled fast with fun and energy.  And still we were glad to have those somber and thought-provoking moments that good songs and stories bring.  But now it was Saturday morning, and my brain was in a different gear.  I was nervous to recall that gasp when the barista told me.  Was there any part of me that conveyed anger at the situation?  Any facial expression or words I regret?  How often does adversity reveal the truth of our faith?  When I said “Maybe the Lord has something in this,” I hadn’t imagined He had a lesson in humility presenting personally to me.  So I prayed.  And I prayed again.  “Lord, I ask that nothing about my reaction last night dissuade our new barista from this invitation to church.  If there was any hint of anger or any grimace of frustration on my face, let him not remember it.  May he remember Your name and know Your presence above all.”  Philippians 4:4-7 says, “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again;  Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  May He guide us to consider Him and others before ourselves.  And how I thank Him for standing in the gap on my account.  

Worldwide VEVO

I hear people say they want to be part of something bigger than themselves.  I understand that.  I was inspired when my husband turned on Netflix and watched a VEVO production in another language.  I heard words sounding like levantaré, clamaré, palabra, nunca, and siempre in Spanish and wondered if the language was Portuguese.  I found myself pausing to ponder something I tend to overlook.  This world becomes narrow and self-centered if I let it.  These foreign words I kept hearing represent people who shouldn’t be foreign to me.  These worshipers know my same Jesus.  Because the words resembled what I know in Spanish, I supposed I knew the essence of their song.  Certainly Jesus knows their language.  Those who sang had experienced Him in their land.  He loves them and saves them from the same Satan who torments me.  And if you’re reading this today from outside the United States, just apply the idea in reverse.  Across the ocean from where you sit, there’s a girl named Linda who experiences Jesus saving her daily from Satan, saving her daily from the evil of other humans and from her own independence.  We all wear the same shoes of temptation, yet Jesus resides in the hearts of His children everywhere, and how I'm thankful to be reminded of the size of that "everywhere."  Dialing up this blog, you've been reading recently alongside people from Argentina, Australia, Bangladesh, Belarus, Belgium, Canada, China, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Japan, Kazakhstan, Lithuania, Malaysia, Netherlands, Poland, Romania, Russia, South Korea, Sweden, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom, USA, and Venezuela.  That means life is connected.  I kneel to pray at the same time someone kneels in China.  You sing at the same time someone sings in Ukraine.  When someone cries to the Lord in Romania, when someone prays in Sweden, it’s quite possible the Lord has led someone in Japan or Venezuela to do the same, even as He calls us to pray for each other sometimes without ever having met face to face.  Titus 2:11 says, “For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men.”  Our God is big.  I pray you know Him as your Savior.  Salvation through Him depends not on any government system or any family history.  Jesus Christ saves upon our individual asking, and His door is always open.  I’m blessed to share this site with you, my brothers and sisters.  You’re in my prayers.

Intimacy of December

Is latest always greatest?  Is bigger always better? Here’s a story.  Last month we went to some friends’ house on a Saturday afternoon.  Their home was a new music venue for us, yet it was a long-awaited and exciting occasion of joining their fellowship of musicians.  The sun shone, the air was crisp, and the drive held a serenity we loved.  On their porch sat a chiminea that softly slowed our pace from the city, much like a campfire seems to bring time to think.  My husband and I were among the first to arrive, and as everyone soon filed through the door, we discovered much in common beyond music.  We had shared neighborhoods and traversed the same roads near and far.  We spoke English and Spanish and had attended the same churches without knowing the other was there.  I must've donned a permanent smile from all the laughing and amazement, knowing little about the best part still to come.  Then I heard our friend announce that music would begin.  People stirred.  Guitar cases opened.  The djembe took prominent position.  Uncapping my little film bottle of water to soak my oboe reed, I sensed a tinge of nervousness beginning to creep.  Yet we set out in music to worship the Lord.  How would we experience Him?  How would He touch us and impact the moment?  The songwriting, the instrumentals, the storytelling, the prayer—it all came so sweetly.  Such an abundant presence of God inhabited the room, both for us as individuals and as a group.  Neither was it a big church service nor any high-tech event.  On this little parcel of land outside San Antonio, a small group of Believers was given a hugely amazing experience of the Lord transcending the day.  Covered softly in stillness and calm, my heart was full.  The gift was supernatural, like when the priests of the Old Testament couldn’t enter the temple because the glory of the Lord filled it so completely (2 Chronicles 7).  Fast-forward to 2014, and the Lord filled my heart so full that no want for anything more could enter.  For days and weeks, this aura of peace held.  I write here now to offer encouragement for those times when we’re restless.  We try the pretty things like shopping, we follow the flashy ads for movies, and we tout food as if it quells our unrest.  In actuality our solution lies in pausing to worship the One who created us.  The peace comes first through Him.  Consider the intimacy the Lord can bring to the smaller moment, for the most treasured gifts aren’t always in the biggest boxes.

Mountain range in the living room

Our washing machine quit washing.  The agitator quit agitating, though for 14 years it served us well.  We bought a new machine, and the fix should be simple, right?  But we rarely looked behind the old washer.  If we had, we would’ve seen the corroded water valves at the wall.  All right, point taken, we’ll just buy some new valves.  But wait a minute.  A closer look shows the old valves were soldered.  Soldered?  What?!  Soldering didn’t fit in our definition of simple.  Nevertheless, don’t fret.  Just check YouTube’s supply of fix-it demos, and usually that works.  And thereby we stepped out on our yellow brick road of plumbing repair.  We visited the plumbing aisle at Lowe’s and met a girl who was helpful.  Next trip, we met a guy who offered a slightly different idea on how to install in such a small space.  Lowe’s was out of one part, so we drove by Home Depot to talk to a third person who explained about using compression connectors.  The task at the house fared pretty well actually, except for some tiny leaks that bubbled at the connectors.  We finally opted to shut off the water and try again tomorrow.  By the time I entered the stores the next day, no one had those parts in stock.  Still looking to solve the situation, we wondered if one more turn of the wrench would make those bubbles disappear.  But as the wrench tightened, the copper tube broke and water gushed with full force.  Spewing straight up and arching straight down, that force of water flooded the room.  As fast as I grabbed towels, and as fast as my husband ran to turn off the water main and bring in the wet vac, the water won the battle.  It seeped underneath the wall and into the next room.  And no one enjoys a sloshy carpet, especially at 1 AM.  Seriously, as we assessed our situation, we were thankful the cats didn’t run away when we scrambled to lift the garage door.  Nevertheless we had a big mess, and all I knew was to ask the Lord what to do next.  We moaned to move furniture.  We groaned to lift the wet carpet.  But we lifted as best we could and propped the carpet on sawhorses to blow air underneath to dry.  In the morning, I just stared.  I took a deep breath and reluctantly touched the carpet, only to find water still seeping toward the piano.  The fans underneath had helped, but I needed a better way to separate the carpet pad.  At that point, my brain overwhelmed.  Emotional numbness set in, but I still had the awareness to seek the Lord.  Soon I found myself sitting to play the piano instead of trying to move it.  “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” came to mind, and I sang a heartfelt rendition that freed my ability to think.  What had weakened in me now began to restore.  Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”  Soon the notion came to cut away the carpet pad and take it outside to dry separately.  That heavy carpet rolled back to a point I hadn’t reached before, and I pressed it with my knee in order to sop the innermost spots of water.  I lifted that bulky old carpet to an extent I could lay it up over the sawhorses I had repositioned.  I look back now and contemplate how amazingly the Lord made that happen.  Later some stronger connectors from a plumbing supply store solved our mechanical woes, but it was the Lord rescuing my mental state that saved the day.  He was my refuge, strength and help, just as the Psalm says.  Today I stand so thankful for having experienced the Lord’s rescue.  And humorously, the sawhorses holding the carpet provided our cats their own personal mountain range in the living room, which they quite fondly sat atop all the rest of last week.