When Words Aren't Enough

Tonight (last night, really) I went to a concert with my mom. It was a piano concert being given by my piano teacher from when I was in 8th, 9th and 10th grades. It was held at a local college, and my mom happened to see a flyer for it at a local music store a couple weeks ago. The artist's name is Joseph Martin, and he's an accomplished composer of choral works as well as piano arrangements. In short, he's pretty darn amazing. Tonight's concert was profound for me on many levels.

When I was a very little kid, my mother would take me with her to piano recitals. She took me to kid recitals and she'd tell me that I would do that some day. She took me to adult performances too. She was in college at the time, and she was getting recital attendance credit for some of it, but she was also very intentionally exposing me to what she believed was my natural bent. She was doing everything in her power to raise me up in the way she believed God had made me to go.

When I was in 8th grade, my mom drove me downtown in 4:00 traffic (and then back home in 5:00 traffic) to take me to my piano lessons with Joseph Martin. I know those lessons weren't cheap. He was already at the point of not needing to teach lessons to make a living. His first CD of piano solos (his own arrangements, of course) came out that year. Mom took me to those lessons down there for nearly 3 years. And she really hates driving in traffic.

Sitting beside her on the front row tonight, I thought of all those things, and I cried. Tears of appreciation for her wisdom and sacrifices all those years ago flowed freely as the air was filled with beautiful piano music being played by my teacher.

As regular readers of my blog know, I have been feeling the presence of God's providence in my personal history converging on this very time in my life, with going back to work and becoming a choir director. Studying piano with Joseph Martin was a critical chapter in my musical development. Working with him honed my musical instincts BIG time. He was also a spiritual influence as well. I can't even really put that part of it to words... The supernatural in music, emotion, spirit... I don't think I had ever really thought about those things before studying with Joe. (Granted, I was only 13 when I started working with him.) Now those concepts are as connected in my thinking as breathing is to living.

And of course now that I'm leading choir rehearsals daily, I'm playing the piano daily. Most often I'm playing badly, but at least I'm playing. I hadn't played much in the years between college and now. I really think I had been running from the piano. My mother was always disappointed that I didn't practice enough, and I had tied her love for me to the piano (it was all in my head- she never meant to do that). Now, in the last couple years, after having been away from it for so many years, and still feeling loved by her (after all, I've given her GRANDCHILDREN now!), I have felt God calling me back to the piano. Since about a year ago, I have been making myself play more often, just whatever I wanted to play, and I'm seeing even that as leading me to where I am in my job. Like I said, I'm not playing well, but I can play enough of the accompaniment for the students to get their cues.

Joe has remained someone special to me, long after I was no longer his piano student. He played the piano at my wedding. I know he doesn't do that for just anybody. I have seen him at music conventions and things throughout the years.

All these things went through my mind as I listened to the concert. And cried. Happy tears. Thankful tears.

When words aren't enough, music speaks.

("Music Speaks" is the name of a song my choirs are singing. I'm currently trying to learn to play the accompaniment respectably!)