Piano

When I was a little girl I took piano lessons for what felt like 20 years.  I'm thinking it felt like closer to 30 years for my mom who had to endure hours of practice and carpools to make it happen.

And now Holden, my 9 year old son, and Emerson, my 7 year old daughter, are both taking lessons.

If you take only one thing away from this post, make sure it's this: 2 kids in level 1 piano at the same time is NOT a good idea.  For real.

Proceed.

So a lot of the songs they play are songs that I don't really know, not familiar to me.  But a couple weeks ago Holden had to play the song "Bill Grogan's Goat."  It's a catchy tune and before long we were having a little sing-along.  Oh to be a fly on the wall then!

Emerson has mastered "Ode to Joy," which I have seriously put a ban on at my house.  The next child that plays that song is going to be doing dishes and laundry and cleaning for the rest of their life under my roof.  They understood the threat and have taken it to heart.  "Ode to Joy" is a thing of the past, and they have both moved on.

That said, the songs keep getting a little harder each week, which isn't always well received.  Emerson would prefer to just sit down and play a little ditty without having to practice.  Reality child is that God did not bless you with that gift, so sit down and practice.

So this morning she sat down to practice...and practice...and practice.  I could feel myself getting a little frustrated, and often heard myself telling her to read her music.  I reminded her that if she would keep her eyes on her music and follow what it says she wouldn't be getting frustrated, and it wouldn't be as hard.

Then I went for a walk(perhaps to cool down, perhaps for exercise, it doesn't really matter).  And I found myself dwelling on the events of the morning and how often I had reminded Emerson to keep her eyes on her music, to read it so she could move from plunking a song out note for note, to playing a song as the writer intended it to sound.

And it hit me.

Life is a lot like playing the piano.  The better we are at reading our music(God's word), the better we will be able to play(live this life) our song the way the writer(God) wants it to be.

I'm not saying that reading God's word makes this life easier...I know many people who are so close to God, and know His word well, yet deal with hardships.

But what I am saying is that in order to live a life for God, we have to know Him.  Walk with Him.  Play with Him.  Listen to Him.  Read His word.  Follow what His word says.  So that when we hit a wrong note, we will have a place to turn, and somebody to tell us how to fix the broken music.

I have spent the last few days at the hospital with my parents.  My dad was having severe headaches, dizziness, and vomiting.  And when that dark cloud was hanging over our family on Thursday, when we didn't know what the next line of the song looked like or sounded like, I was so happy that I knew the one who was composing my dad's song.

We left the hospital yesterday with a lot of unanswered questions, but a lot of the big bad scary things have been ruled out.  Thank you Jesus!  And all I felt was a sense of hope and peace.  Hope for the next line of the song, and peace that God already has it written.


Please note that I love it that my kids are learning to play piano, even if it takes every last bit of patience to get them through it.  And I love it that when I told Holden he could quit he tapped into his stubborn side and overcame.  And I think their teacher is great, especially because she doesn't yell at me when they fall short of their expected practices in a week!