“Here comes my favorite violin student,” I said as Rebecca came in for her weekly lesson.
“Because I’m your ONLY violin student,” the nine-year-old replied with a big grin. Leaving her pint-size violin on the couch, she headed to the kitchen for a quick after-school snack. Hey, it’s 4:15 p.m. and she just came from school. Need some fuel for brain power!
Since early March, I’ve enjoyed having my first-ever violin student. Though I’ve played violin since age 12, I never considered myself a music teacher. Thus, when her family called in February asking for teacher recommendations, I threw out others’ names.
Explaining they only wanted a two-month run at lessons—this was the gift she really wanted for her ninth birthday—I agreed to it. Just before the two months were up, Rebecca took $10 out of her own piggy bank to help with another month of instrumental rental and asked please, please just another month of lessons.
She’s not your usual beginner for whom music notes are a foreign language. Piano and trumpet already in her background, she jumped several typical lessons by just watching the video that came with her beginner music book.
Working with a beginning violinist has reminded me of several parallels with the Christian walk.
1. You’re special to God. Max Lucado is widely quoted for suggesting, “If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it” (from Prayer: A Heavenly Invitation). Dare I say: If God had a violin student, you’d be His favorite student. You’d be the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8), His chosen one. Because you are!
2. There’s a learning curve. That first lesson, I explained about the instrument and how to care for it. I quickly sewed her a “shoulder pad” (from my sewing scraps) to help her hold the violin correctly. I modeled how to hold the bow with her right hand and place her left hand on the fingerboard. I warned her against “choking” the violin’s neck in her left-hand position, and made appropriate gasping sounds to reinforce the point. I think back to my baby steps in learning about the Bible, like memorizing the books of the Bible and grasping the basics about the fall of man, Jewish history, and Jesus’ life. I couldn’t have handled the profound meaning of “propitiation” as a young believer any more than Rebecca can do “vibrato” or “seventh position” yet. God teaches us at His good pace.
3. You need to practice. It’s not enough to show up for lessons. Learning to play an instrument has no “auto-pilot” mode where you punch the right buttons and cruise on. It takes training fingers, arms, and ears through repetition. I could tell when a piece I assigned Rebecca turned out to be a favorite. She practiced it more! Spiritual “practice” includes praying and thoughtfully reading the Bible. Eventually, even the “hard” parts will come. (I keep telling myself that as I read through Ezekiel. This morning, working through the “sheep chapter” of Ezekiel 34, I marked all the incredible “I will” promises from God. They cover a lot more about life than even Psalm 23!)
4. Enjoy the process. As soon as Rebecca had enough skills, I wrote out a song that I said would be very useful to learn: “Happy Birthday.” Rebecca grinned and said her sister had a birthday the following month. I practice what I preach! A few weeks ago, my calendar reminded me that an eighty-something friend, who teaches a Bible study at a senior living facility, had a birthday coming up. The day of her study, I toted my violin to the facility. As her study ended, I came in playing the “birthday song.” Surprised her? Absolutely. What fun! One of the great parts of being connected with other Christians is sharing the simple joys of life.
Rebecca’s last lesson with me is May 28. The little violin goes back to the music store and she heads for summer vacation. Will violin emerge ahead of piano or trumpet as a first love? I don’t know. But I applaud her parents for enriching her life with music experiences. And I thank God for bringing her bright, eager face into my life for the last three months.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Home repairs
Yesterday morning I tossed the first load in the washer then ran in the bathroom for a quick shower, just the other side of the wall from the washer and dryer. As I turned on the shower, I heard this suspicious "bong." Post-shower, I checked the washer. Dead. Twirled the dials and pulled. No action. Sigh. Pulled out the soggy dirty laundry for Plan B--washing the load elsewhere. Groan. Just fourteen months ago we had this washer repaired.
Another sound, that of whirring and tinkling. It wasn't in any of the bathrooms. It wasn't a faucet outside. The location: the hot water heater. In our house (one of several of the same compact plan in this workingman's neighborhood), that meant the shorty tank in the corner of the kitchen, accessible only by pulling out the stove and removing the side of the cupboard. It wouldn't dare give up, would it? Fourteen years ago it had died. Replacement was a plumber's nightmare. (As was the entire weekend with Grandma's hiccuping garage door opener, putting Grandpa in a care home, Grandma's hip replacement surgery, son Zach getting braces, the invasion of black widow spiders, losing a set of keys....)
My son came for dinner that night. His wife was away at a conference and his dad was already gone to feed Grandma at the nursing home. "What's that noise, Mom?" he asked. "Something near the water heater," I admitted. "Maybe we'll check it this weekend."
He gulped down his spaghetti, pulled out the stove, unscrewed the side panel, and pointed the flashlight at a water heater sitting in its own rusty pool. We cut the power and pulled in a garden hose to drain it.
I had one consolation: at least this double-whammy didn't happen the last week of June, when my daughter's getting married....
It also made me think that I've got it right with my current book project. I've written about Heaven and how our eternal Home is perfect in every way. No more fragile clothes washers. No more rusty water heaters.
Have you ever thought of the type of home that would be perfect for you? Ever looked around your house, apartment or room and wished you could give it a makeover? Think about the colors you'd paint it? The flooring and furniture? How, when it all came together, it would be "you" and bring deep satisfaction?
I think the reason that the reality TV show, "Extreme Makeover--Home Edition," has enjoyed such wild success is that it tapped into this deep human desire of being fully and happily "home." And while the mansions they build in a week are off the top of the scale (and provide great advertising for those who supply materials), they are a reminder of the Bible's promise of something eternally better. Jesus promised it: "In my Father's house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you" (John 14:2).
A lot of people grew up hearing this verse, "In my Father's house are many mansions." That's not quite in line with the original Greek word, mone, which means "dwelling place." When you realize that it is God's dwelling place, that makes even "mansions" seem shabby. Whatever Heaven turns out to be, it will be wonderful, absolutely perfectly planned for us by Heaven's design team.
My book is a 31-day devotional tour of our Heavenly home. Each day's reading (about 750 words) is based on a room of a house and gathers together what the Bible says about Heaven. For example, ever think of Heaven's foyer?
I've self-published a little spiral-bound version of the book and more than fifty copies are out there already. [I'm contacting publishers, hoping one will catch my vision for this book.] I've had an incredible feedback--that finally there's an easily-read, comforting book about the hope of Heaven. One of the first books went to a friend in Seattle dying of cancer. He and his wife used it for their couple's devotions, then he read it alone as he had the strength. On April 19, with his last breath on earth, he entered his Heavenly home.
No more home repairs. No more body repairs.
Keep looking up, friends. This isn't all there is.
Another sound, that of whirring and tinkling. It wasn't in any of the bathrooms. It wasn't a faucet outside. The location: the hot water heater. In our house (one of several of the same compact plan in this workingman's neighborhood), that meant the shorty tank in the corner of the kitchen, accessible only by pulling out the stove and removing the side of the cupboard. It wouldn't dare give up, would it? Fourteen years ago it had died. Replacement was a plumber's nightmare. (As was the entire weekend with Grandma's hiccuping garage door opener, putting Grandpa in a care home, Grandma's hip replacement surgery, son Zach getting braces, the invasion of black widow spiders, losing a set of keys....)
My son came for dinner that night. His wife was away at a conference and his dad was already gone to feed Grandma at the nursing home. "What's that noise, Mom?" he asked. "Something near the water heater," I admitted. "Maybe we'll check it this weekend."
He gulped down his spaghetti, pulled out the stove, unscrewed the side panel, and pointed the flashlight at a water heater sitting in its own rusty pool. We cut the power and pulled in a garden hose to drain it.
I had one consolation: at least this double-whammy didn't happen the last week of June, when my daughter's getting married....
It also made me think that I've got it right with my current book project. I've written about Heaven and how our eternal Home is perfect in every way. No more fragile clothes washers. No more rusty water heaters.
Have you ever thought of the type of home that would be perfect for you? Ever looked around your house, apartment or room and wished you could give it a makeover? Think about the colors you'd paint it? The flooring and furniture? How, when it all came together, it would be "you" and bring deep satisfaction?
I think the reason that the reality TV show, "Extreme Makeover--Home Edition," has enjoyed such wild success is that it tapped into this deep human desire of being fully and happily "home." And while the mansions they build in a week are off the top of the scale (and provide great advertising for those who supply materials), they are a reminder of the Bible's promise of something eternally better. Jesus promised it: "In my Father's house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you" (John 14:2).
A lot of people grew up hearing this verse, "In my Father's house are many mansions." That's not quite in line with the original Greek word, mone, which means "dwelling place." When you realize that it is God's dwelling place, that makes even "mansions" seem shabby. Whatever Heaven turns out to be, it will be wonderful, absolutely perfectly planned for us by Heaven's design team.
My book is a 31-day devotional tour of our Heavenly home. Each day's reading (about 750 words) is based on a room of a house and gathers together what the Bible says about Heaven. For example, ever think of Heaven's foyer?
I've self-published a little spiral-bound version of the book and more than fifty copies are out there already. [I'm contacting publishers, hoping one will catch my vision for this book.] I've had an incredible feedback--that finally there's an easily-read, comforting book about the hope of Heaven. One of the first books went to a friend in Seattle dying of cancer. He and his wife used it for their couple's devotions, then he read it alone as he had the strength. On April 19, with his last breath on earth, he entered his Heavenly home.
No more home repairs. No more body repairs.
Keep looking up, friends. This isn't all there is.
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