Monday, November 17, 2014
"My heart will be blessed with the sound of music"(Rogers and Hammerstein)
The Piano. The Catalyst.
I was young, maybe three or four, when the piano that had belonged to Great Aunt and Uncle arrived. They called it a baby grand piano; I called it magical. Its polished brown wood glowed in the living room lighting where it majestically occupied an entire corner of the room. It was fine and elegant and breath-taking, and even though I was just a little one, I was thoroughly captivated by this magnificent treasure. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, nor tear myself away from sitting on the exquisitely embroidered piano bench, despite the fact that my feet seemed miles from the floor. The white and the black keys beckoned my tiny pre-school fingers, and the sounds emerging from the long strings inside in response to my touch were comforting and somehow familiar such as the voice of a friend. I loved our piano. Our home, from my earliest recollections back in the early 60’s, was always filled with the grand and glorious sound of Rogers and Hammerstein musicals billowing out of our hi-fi drawing each of us regularly into spontaneous dance. To know the music, to feel the music, to engage the music and to revel in its joy was the standard MO at home. That being said, it is no small wonder that songs were forever swirling in my imagination. Music was like breath to me and it spoke a language to my heart that brought comfort and blissful joy. And now a piano. The canvas upon which my imagination could play. I would listen to the hi-fi or the radio and then race to the piano to recreate what I had heard, and then back again and forth. Hours. Days. Weeks. Years. Then came lessons to bring form and understanding to a gift that was already there. Years. Deep deep prayers filled my heart in articulation to God of my longing to write songs to bless others, to reach others, to serve others, to be balm and whispers of hope and shouts of dissention and peals of jubilation, capturing what only music can when all else falls desperately short of adequate expression. Such prayers uttered with the sincerest of desire over a lifetime offer no surprise when such music begins to flow and flow and flow. A career of music to bless truly evokes infinite thanksgiving from the heart of this one who fully comprehends with overwhelming humility that I have been permitted to continually glimpse the brilliance and the beauty of answered prayer in acknowledgement of the truth that God provides the music and I offer my hands to play. I am thankful for this gift that sets my soul on fire and at the same time reaches beyond my small longing into the bigger need of others around. I am so very very thankful.