The vehicle of music

She sat a few rows back. I stood at the piano in front, looking out across the congregation while still listening to the sermon. Here at the end of the worship service, most everyone’s eyes were fixed upon the preacher. Her eyes had drifted my way, and without knowing her name, I was very happy for us to meet as we did. I smiled, and so did she. It was opportunity to welcome her to our church. Over the years, I’ve asked the Lord to be my music teacher, and He has shown His purposes to be more than musical. Though He has wonderfully stretched my fingers to play notes and chords I didn’t think possible, music has not been simply an end product. More often music has been a vehicle to deliver something else. Last Sunday with our study group, I shared a story that posed the question, “What would this world be like if no one cared who got credit for what they did?” Many in the group suddenly stopped what they were doing, whether sitting or standing, to ponder. The story fit with the song we planned to sing, and I sang the first verse, only to notice the effects of the question still lingering throughout the room. People remained quiet to think. Our group had asked my husband and me to lead music, long before we ever knew we'd retell that story.  Music had served as the vehicle for delivering the story, just as my standing at the piano allowed me to welcome a girl from across the room. I’ve seen the Lord use a simple, little melody to set a deeply thought-provoking tone. Other times He’s used a laughable clunker of a note to ease someone’s burden. In infinite ways, He uses music—for the sake of people.

In a hospital elevator

“We’ll never go out of business—that’s for sure.”  These two hospital workers chuckled about their own job security, given the seemingly endless line of incoming patients.  And they’re correct about the fact that here on earth we certainly do deal with sickness, from the aches and pains of the common cold, all the way through to life-threatening disease and never-before-seen symptoms.  But what if the prayers of a hospital staff were so fervent that patients were quickly and regularly being sent home?  Would the staff actually have reason to worry about their jobs?  It’d be like firefighters worrying about a day without fires and police officers worrying about a day without crime.  Our call to prayer remains.  Concern for our jobs is not foremost.  A pastor once said, “I don’t want to stand before God's judgment seat and tell Him I was worried about losing my job, and that’s why I didn’t speak out or follow Him through doors He opened for me.”  This pastor has a point.  Is it possible the Lord could call me to lose my job?  Sure.  I lost a teaching job about 5 years ago, and I will gladly testify again and again to the Lord's blessings throughout.  Sometimes He calls people to lose their lives.  For that matter, God our Father called Jesus to surrender His life.  Most important is for us to know the Lord and follow Him, resting assured that He knows every hair on our heads and will provide for our needs—jobs and all.  As Romans 14 talks about His judgment seat, I want to be able to freely and joyfully account for myself before Him when that day comes.  The next time I visit a friend in a hospital, might I hear workers in the elevator telling wonderful stories of prayer and how the Lord heals?  I’ll hope big.

A toothbrush, a mattress, & generosity

A young lady rode 2 buses across many miles of our city, from south to north, all for the sake of donating a new toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.  She called out from across the parking lot in hope she wasn’t too late to give with the radiothon that would benefit local flood victims.  Another family drove up with a well-used mattress, held in place atop their station wagon by 6 arms stretched up and out the open windows.  Their generous contribution may have left part of the family sleeping on bare floor that night.  Altogether, people donated a truckload of food, thousands of dollars, and over a hundred pints of blood.  It was a wonderful occasion that caused me to check my pulse once again.  How do I give?  Do I dig deep to give wholeheartedly, or do I merely skim off the top?  Is there anything I grip too tightly for myself?  And why did I almost cry to read about the young lady traversing the city on 2 buses?  It’s partly because I’ve ridden our buses, and I know how the different routes can take half-hours and hours to connect, and I love this young lady’s willingness and determination to give. God has these gentle ways of inspiring us—sometimes through written stories, like the one by Sonny Melendrez in Welcome Home that reflected recently on San Antonio's flood days of 1998; sometimes through song lyrics; sometimes through photographs of people we’ll never meet and who have no idea we notice their example.  The last verses of 1 Timothy talk about a generous heart laying up treasure.  I ask the Lord to lead me to be generous.

A brown bird of hope

The Voice of the Martyrs writes that Asia Bibi has spent almost three years in a Pakistani prison on charges that she blasphemed Islam’s prophet Muhammad.  The Voice of the Martyrs writes also that Asia, who is a Christian, has felt blessed while in her cell on death row.  She’s encountered a regular visitor in the form of a brown bird who comes to sit near her for 10 minutes at a time, and they’ve become friends.  Having wondered on occasion why he comes, she’s concluded he’s a blessing from God and a messenger, as he’s brought her encouragement and peace.  And so I’ve pondered this idea of the Lord blessing a human by nonhuman means.  Is the notion of the bird too far-fetched?  This is not an animated Cinderella movie or Snow White or Bambi.  This is real life.  In 1 Kings 17:1-6, the Lord ordered ravens to deliver bread and meat to Elijah.  They came twice a day, just as now Asia’s brown bird comes in the morning around 4:00 and in the evening around 5:00.  Indeed all of creation is His and at His disposal.  Nothing can separate us from God's love.  And so we continue to pray for Asia.

Upon an ordinary sidewalk

What wonderful blessings were beheld this week upon an ordinary sidewalk.  An early blessing came in the form of a woman who asked me to pray for her stomach pain and for her husband to stop drinking and smoking.  She had walked from down the street and evidently perceived us on the sidewalk as approachable, and I was glad to oblige, also inquiring of her, “Do you know Jesus Christ?”  Her reply: “Yes,” and she talked about returning next week for us to meet again.  Soon an ice cream vendor with his push-cart entered the clinic parking lot and paused to face the building.  He eventually moved to the middle of the lot and finally to the far driveway, pausing in each place to face the clinic.  Perhaps he was praying also.  Even just the idea made my heart leap.  Then a taxi driver neared our curb and slowed to give a thumbs-up, saying through his open window, “Keep up the good work.”  Toward the end of my stay, I noticed a lady sitting in her car directly in front of the clinic, with her foot hanging outside the open door while she talked on the phone.  I began to wonder.  “Lord, why is she there?  Is she having second thoughts?  Is she wavering?  May You bless her to know Your love.  May she choose Life.  May You protect her from entering the doors of this abortion clinic.”  By now, I explained to my fellow pray-ers that I would be heading home.  Yet suddenly I turned back, having heard these panicked words, “I don’t know what to do!”  It was the lady from the car now exclaiming as she approached our group.  One pray-er pointed the lady to our trained counselor.  I kept walking, but out of curiosity, I peeked back again to see the lady still engaged in conversation.  Driving past the clinic a couple of minutes later, I noticed her and her car both gone.  It seemed she quickly left the premises, and I rejoiced in the hope that Life was saved.  Such an inspiring first occasion to walk this street and pray for the Lord to prevent abortions from happening inside this "clinic."  A day filled with friendly car honks of support.  A day of prayer to which I felt called.

Veering the heart

Last weekend a friend told about visiting a nursing home.  For months she had driven past the campus and wondered about reading Scripture to residents.  Finally one day, she veered into the parking lot, parked the car, stepped out, walked across the front doorway of the nursing home, and quickly found herself greeted by the question, “Are you here to see somebody?”  Her reply: “I’m here to see anybody.”  She stated her case about reading the Bible, to which the staff member responded, “I know just the person.”  What ensued was a sweet encounter with a lady whose eyesight had diminished.  She requested Psalm 23 specifically and explained her difficulty in locating verses amongst all the pages.  My friend read verse to verse and noticed the lips of her new companion joining in.  And this new relationship continued for nearly a year, all set in motion by the Lord, who impacts our thinking and compels the heart.  This week I have delighted over and over in the simplicity of my friend’s words, “I’m here to see anybody.”  Her willingness to serve allowed an elderly lady to relive her joy of Scripture, even in turn blessing me all these days later.

Loaves, fishes, & spaghetti

Our friend in her bright pink shirt welcomed us from the front doorstep.  The menu was spaghetti this time, and it’s always fun when she hosts our Sunday study group.  Usually someone new comes, so we figure to have extra food.  Strolling through the kitchen, we partook of crackers and cheese and even that yummy spinach dip for veggies, and we met one new couple along the way.  While at the Fritos tray in the den, we greeted a few more new guests.  In the living room, even more were ushered in.  It was all wonderful, though some of our planners were starting to wonder how the food would last.  And when some of our girls took seats at the biggest table, that was cue to start serving the dinner plates.  From the oven, the casseroles marched out in those deep foil pans.  Baked spaghetti, some with meat, some meatless, all exiting the rack.  Oven mitts carried them to a corner table for spooning onto the plates.  Granted we already had olives and pickles and all kinds of hors d’oeuvres, so we weren't starving, but people were happy to see the hot food.  One plate on its way, then another.  And it just kept coming.  All these people, and how was there still enough spaghetti?  Even when the salad bowls looked empty, our friend announced she had more.  It was Jesus and the loaves and fishes all over again (Mark 6).  Absolutely loved it.

Christ's audible prayer

My email inbox contained a quote from Robert Murray McCheyne:  “If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies.”  This one sentence is boggling my brain at the moment.  I consider the idea of Jesus in my house, sitting at the foot of my bed, ready to accompany me in prayer.  My feeble mind wanders a bit to imagine Him in my kitchen, opening the refrigerator.  Humorously I wonder whether He’d slap together a sandwich with mayonnaise or opt for the product of those mustard seeds He talks about.  And I rethink that if He were in my living room, would I suddenly pick up the tufts of cat fur spotted around the carpet?  But then soberly, I consider the power of His voice.  What a trembling reverence I envision upon hearing Him say my name.  Even just the idea is almost unfathomable, and I’m not certain my body could contain the size of His blessing.  The enormity of His love could bend my knees, maybe even spontaneously buckle them, as they’ve never withstood first-handedly such a wonder-filled physical presence.  Overall it is a picture of actuality, for indeed Christ is here.  He prays for those He loves.  By Isaiah 53:12 He has prayed for sinners all, and by Romans 8:34 He is actively praying for us today.  Years ago He walked this earth in our human form, and now still He walks with me in San Antonio and with you in your hometown.  All the while, His perfect love drives out our humanly crippling fears.  His love girds us, as no being or circumstance can instill a fear that Christ's love cannot thwart.  And to read the Bible, to be with Him and meditate and marvel, indeed we are blessed.  

Food, clothes, & a fight

By 7:30 AM, we’d missed it.  We only heard about it.  The fight had been at 6:30 in the parking lot, beginning with an argument over who would be first in line this Saturday.  Our chaplain in charge had the distinct pleasure of addressing the fracas.  Driving up to find police on the premises leads some people to turn around from church and go home, yet really we’re trying to lay out a welcome mat.  Regardless of how the squabble began, the Lord did bring good from it.  “…many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.”  One of our volunteers wisely shared these words from Matthew 19:30.  With our whole group, he traced back the years, recounting that the Lord had always provided for this ministry, and on no occasion had the church ever run out of food or clothes.  No one needed to push his way to the front, and in fact a wonderful gesture would have been for someone to voluntarily exchange his front spot for a place further back in line.  On that note, heads nodded in agreement.  People took turns telling of the Lord’s blessings, praising Him especially for many accounts of healing.  Some took extra time to pray, even praying without concern for losing their turn in the receiving line.  When word of the fight had initially spread amongst our guests, gasps of appallment floated in the air, yet the scenario held a lesson in humility for us all.  Reconsider those other times we want to be first.  We disregard the express checkout sign that designates 10 items or less, just so we can finish quicker.  We drink the last of the orange juice when honestly we knew someone else wanted it.  We edge out a parking slot to the dismay of another driver.  We think again.

Rest & retreat

A friend held an envelope that I assumed was last night’s dinner invitation.  “Oh, I see you brought your official invite.”  She opened the envelope to show that actually it was information on the women’s retreat.  I’d never attended a retreat here, so my sweet friend enlightened me a bit.  In the meantime, two more girls joined our dinner table and tossed in their two cents, and amongst their reflections on retreat, my heart seemed to lighten, though I wasn't aware it had felt heavy.  What’s noteworthy here is not that I entertained a new thought but rather that I felt something lifting in me in the process.  The purpose of our dinner was to appreciate those who volunteer.  Sunday mornings for my husband and me are full, yet we are blessed to give our time.  Still in the moments of this unexpected retreat discussion, the Lord put me on the receiving end with a reminder to just enjoy the company, to take a break from preparing music and trying to speak Spanish, and simply be encouraged through the table of friendship He provided.  Rest, and be refreshed.  And there's a retreat yet to come.