Shorthand of Emotion

It never ceases to amaze me how influential music is.  Music can communicate love, hope, peace, and faith. Music has the ability to cross barriers, be they racial, cultural, ethnic, or ones of language.  Music can bring calm to a storm, hope to the hopeless, and God to those who might not hear. It leads me to agree with Tolstoy's definition of music, that "Music is the Shorthand of Emotion." Sunday night, I was blessed to be a part of that dictation.   

For several months, the choir of LBC was on hiatus.  We did not have a choir director/music minister and, as a church, were actively seeking someone for the position.  As I do not have many talents for witnessing outside of what I can do in song, I felt the absence of a creative outlet fairly acutely.  I had felt like a piece of driftwood; there for an unknown purpose, simply being swept along with the tide.

Enter Jeff Campbell.

Having had broken my ankle the day before he was there to "audition," I had not met him prior to his arrival in mid-October, when Jeff came to LBC to fill the position of music minister/worship leader/choir director.   All I had been told was that he had travelled with Wings (with Liza) and that he was very nice.  Upon meeting him, I could definitely concur.  Jeff brought to our first meeting/practice an infectious energy.  Even with a very limited time schedule, Jeff opted to prepare a program for Christmas. It was certainly an ambitious plan; however, not once did Jeff's faith in what we could accomplish waiver.  He remained positive and uplifting, constantly reasserting his belief that we could (and would) do well.

Flash forward to Sunday night.  To say I was blessed would be a severe understatement.  Without the outlet of singing, I had been floundering and searching for a new direction. Last night, I was again reminded of the awe-inspiring ways in which God speaks to us.  For many, telling of their faith in Christ is second nature. For me, singing it is.  Where I would stumble with verses or struggle to find exactly the right words to say, music never fails me.  God always seems to give me what I need through music.  Last night, I had the privilege to sing with about 45 of some of the most wonderful people I have ever met. Each one, in his or her own way, brought something special to our program.  God was truly glorified last night through the lives and voices of those 45 individuals who gave of their time and of their talents to serve Him.  I am truly humbled that God would choose me to serve with such a wonderful group.  I am excited to see what plans He has in store for us next!  I pray that He will lead our choir to do great things for His glory and honor, for it is through Him that we are given these gifts and through Him that we will accomplish great works for His kingdom. 

The dulcet tones..

...of an almost 3-year-old fill the house tonight. He is learning to compose music on a plastic shopping cart while attempting to sing in tune. He has found "drumsticks," and he is proceeding to beat on every surface of our home. There is only quiet in my home when he is asleep or has just woken up. And I have to tell you: I LOVE IT!

From his curly head to his above-average feet, he is everything I have ever wanted in a child. He makes up songs as he goes along. He still sometimes speaks in gibberish that only he understands, while trying to convince you that you have to know what he wants. He tries to get the non-fuzzy green bunnies to come out from under the bush where they are hiding because they are scared. He kisses the boo-boos on everyone in the house (some of which he creates) and offers the BEST cuddles (one of which was just offered to me as I was typing this).

He is at times shy and soft, at others loud and rough. He is me at home and his dad in public. He knows the rules and follows them, sometimes. When asked if he is Mommy's Boy, the answer is always a resounding "uh-huh." He usually remembers to say please and thank you. He lives for chicken and "cheese" fries (which do not actually contain cheese). I try to convince him that it is time to go to bed, and he thinks it's time for another round of Fireman Sam. My son is teaching me so much. I learn patience from him. I am normally getting that lesson at 7:05 am when we are running late, and he wants to unlock the car door. I get that lesson when he is saying "Mom" for the seven-thousand, three hundred, forty-second time. We are learning together, and that is definitely the best part!

As I look at him, I wonder how in the world I have been so lucky. What is it that I did in my life that was so deserving of a reward that God gifted me with this child? Whatever it is, I will not question it too deeply and continue to thank Him for the gift.