Category: a bit of history

a bit of history · it's a runner's world... · who knows?

The Shackles

melodyannday6 Comments

(I’ve exchanged my shackles, for these running shoes…)

None of you (and I’m confident saying that) were there the first time I ran a kilometer.  1000 very long meters.  I know that none of  you were there because it was during my gym class in grade two.   The event is engraved onto my memory.

It wasn’t eventful because I finished first, or because it was an epic moment where I realized I was going to be a runner.  No.  I remember it because I hated it.  At the time, I had exercised induced asthma and couldn’t quite manage extensive cardiovascular activity.  As my class ran around the block, I tried – but, it was a struggle.  By the time I finished everyone else had already gone inside- well, except the P.E teacher who was waiting for me.

I’ve gone through fits and starts of attempting to be an athlete… volleyball in high school, I tried swimming in college.  But all in all, the task of doing much above vigorous walking has been difficult.   For quite some time I  carried an inhaler with me, and there was a point where I needed it daily.  As an adult, I’ve settled into a sedentary lifestyle and so, I haven’t used an inhaler for asthma recently. I’m not proud of the fact, its just the way it has been for me.  Like a big heavy set of ankle weights strapped on… that asthma diagnosis has held me hostage.  I was shackled.

Until recently.

A year ago I realized I wasn’t going to be able to lose anymore of the baby weight I had gained in my pregnancies without working out.  We have an elliptical in our family room, so I began exercising.  Initially my effort couldn’t really be described as anything other than delicate.  I didn’t want to push too hard for fear of the unknown. What would happen?  I’ve had enough asthmatic episodes to know I didn’t want to have one without meds on hand.

In January, I made the commitment to train and try to run in a 5K with a group of friends.  Several times I have wondered what in the world I was thinking.  But honestly I came to realize something Friday when I was running at the track.  A song came on in my earbuds.  If you didn’t listen to Christian contemporary music in the 1990’s, you’ve probably never heard the song by Mary-Mary called, “Shackles.”  One of the phrases says, “You took the shackles off my feet so I could dance…I’ve just gotta praise You, I’ve just gotta praise You!”  And at that moment, when I heard those words, everything within my frame of reference came into alignment- from my grade two running failure to the present.

The Heavenly Father was in the process of taking the shackles off my feet – and I realized:

I CAN RUN!

Now I know what you’re thinking…  Some people would not agree that I’ve been healed of asthma.  They would say that I’ve just outgrown it.  But do you know what I think?  I believe that the God of this Universe created me and this earthly body I’m wearing.  And do you know what? It is an amazing piece of work! There was a time I could not go any distance at all.  But today, for the first time I RAN.  I ran THREE MILES in thirty six minutes.  I give HIM the honor and the glory and the praise for  healing my asthma, so that I can run!  I just have to praise Him!

16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.17 And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.  Colossians 3:16-17

Thank you Heavenly Father, for being a God who answers prayers, who heals our bodies and makes us complete.    May I never take it for granted.  Let my life always give you the glory for everything I’m able to do.  amen.

a bit of history · in my kitchen

rocky road

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I have memories of my Great Aunt Betsy, tucked away in my heart.  My sister and I spent a lot of time at her home during our grade school years.  Many overnights, and a lot of Sunday afternoons.  I loved spending time with her.  Her sweet and gentle spirit was constant;  she showed me Jesus, often when I needed it the most.

She also baked.  Whenever we stayed with her it seems she had these tiny chocolate chip cookies on hand and I ate exponential amounts of them or Rocky Road bars, while drinking several glasses of chocolate milk.  But the Rocky Road bars -those were my favorite.  I have the recipe (in my grandmother’s handwriting) and I’m considering making them this afternoon.

At any rate, I have these memories of chatting with Aunt Betsy at the kitchen table while enjoying our snack.  One conversation I remember in particular.  The circumstances, when I think of them now, make me giggle.  But they weren’t funny at the time.  My sister and I were required to share a double bed when we spent the night at her house.  And there was one night where my dear, lovely sister became very frustrated with me (something about crossing on to her side of the bed) and she pushed me right out of the bed.  with significant force.

That was on a Saturday night.  Sunday morning we went to church, and my forehead was adorned with this huge knot.  I was not thrilled at the time.  I remember that afternoon talking it over with my Aunt…  I’m pretty sure there were rocky road bars present… but, she encouraged me that I couldn’t stay mad at my sister.  I would have to forgive her.

What I wouldn’t give to have a chat and a treat with my Aunt Betsy right now.  this very minute.  I’m struggling.  I’d like to forgive, I really would.  In fact, it wasn’t long ago that I blogged about how easy it was to forgive someone else… and it was.  Typically I’m not one to hold a grudge.  I mean, I forgave Marilyn for pushing me out of bed.  But this time, its different- it seems so much harder.

This time it is personal.  I’m not just angry, although I am a tad-bit mad.  My feelings are hurt – my heart has been squeezed tightly and wrung right out.  I have no idea how to get back to a place of forgiveness…  how do I get there?  I’m not sure even Aunt Betsy could help…

But it is during this season of Lent, I’m reminded of Jesus. He forged the path of redemption and forgiveness himself, through the pain of being beaten and hung on a cross ’til death.  Truly, it was my sin, my offenses that put Him on the cross to die.  And yet, on the other side of His death, with His resurrection secured on the timeline of history, He offers forgiveness, so that I am forgiven.  so that I can forgive.

If He can look at me with eyes of compassion after all that I’ve done, how can I do any less for someone else?  Its a difficult road, a bit rocky with stones of anger and frustration, hurt and even injustice.  But, I don’t have to walk it alone…  He’s already been there, so that I can walk the road of forgiveness too.

In Colossians 2, Paul reminds me that Christ has accomplished the necessary work, forgiving us:

11 In Him you were also circumcised with the circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the sins[c] of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, 12 buried with Him in baptism, in which you also were raised with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead. 13 And you, being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He has made alive together with Him, having forgiven you all trespasses, 14 having wiped out the handwriting of requirements that was against us, which was contrary to us. And He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross. 15 Having disarmed principalities and powers, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it.

I am so thankful for these words today.  It puts in perspective for me just how much I am able to forgive, because I truly am forgiven and free.

Thank you Heavenly Father. Thank you for your love that meets me in the middle of the afternoon, while I’m trying to survive this “rocky road” life.

Well, in honor of my Aunt Betsy and all of the wisdom she offered to me so long ago, I’m headed to the kitchen.  I’ve got some rocky road bars to make.

a bit of history · who knows?

finger worship…

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I am a pianist by trade. I play the piano. I teach it. I love it. For a long time growing up it was my life. Everything revolved around sitting on the bench at the keys. It was my first love. It was also my first real idol.

The more I practiced, the more I gained power, the more it shaped who I was, the better I became at playing, the more I practiced… you can see the cycle. I loved playing and I loved being good at it.

My parents raised me in church. Almost literally. And so, from an early age, as they realized my talent, they tried to teach me that I should use this gift for Him. He had blessed my fingers and I should play for Him in return.

Giving my idol to Him was complicated.

Wrapped around this beautiful gift He had given me, entwined with my fingers was pride, a haughty and power-hungry spirit. He wanted me to worship Him with my fingers. I was just worshipping my fingers.

As I grew as a believer, I became more and more aware of my sinful heart. I was able to lay down my love for the instrument and my prowess in exchange for my love of Him. The process was long and arduous, but over time I have learned to love Him more than the piano. Well, most days, anyway. Admittedly, It is ongoing.

All of this is a brief history that brings me to today. Over time I have become so aware of my responsibility to lay my gift at His feet, to play for His glory that I forgot something. I have not been thankful. I have been obliged, but not thankful.

For the first time in a long time all of that changed. Today I played in worship services. As my fingers passionately ran across the keys, my heart was full. I played things that the Holy Spirit ordained, right from my tips and I was completely out of control – only under His control. As I felt His anointing wash over me, I was glad. Glad that my fingers were worshiping, playing music from my heart to His. It was almost more than I could stand.

There have been times when I have used worship for my own purposes. However, today I was able to play and I was thankful. The journey has been long, but I can finally use something He has given me, something I love so much to show how much more I love Him. And I told Him, right there on the bench.

“Thank you for letting me worship this way. It is more than I could have ever hoped for...”

There is an old Dennis Jernigan that makes my heart swell every time I hear it, but in particular today it brings me to a new level of thankfulness. –

For all that you’ve done I will thank you.

For all that you’re going to do.

For all that you’ve promised and all that you are

is all that has carried me through!

Jesus I thank you.

He has brought me a mighty long way, to a new place of freedom in Him! I can’t wait to see where else this journey will carry me! Thank you Heavenly Father for letting my fingers worship!

(originally written August, 2010)

a bit of history · in my kitchen

warning: valentine’s day is approaching…

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For all you lovers out there, who are bakers, (or even if you aren’t a baker) and need to do something for the valentine in your life, I’ve got just the thing for you! Recently, in order to celebrate valentine’s day properly, I made these really wonderful cookies.  A chocolate and vanilla sandwich cookie; super simple and super yummy for your special someone.

The recipe I used called them homemade oreos.  I will not call them that because I just, well, I just can’t.  An oreo is an oreo- and there is nothing else like it.  But, these cookies are a little chocolatey piece of loveliness for the tastebuds – and I will make them again.  and again. and not just for my little valentines…

These cookies are chewy, the filling is creamy and together they are a match made in heaven.  Just like you and your valentine.

Here’s the recipe:

chocolate sandwich cookies

cookie dough ingredients:

1 package of devil’s food cake mix

2 eggs

1/2 cup oil or shortening

filling ingredients:

1/4 cup butter at room temp.

1/4 cup shortening

2 tsp vanilla

2-3 cups powdered sugar.

instructions:

heat oven to 350.  mix cookie dough ingredients, then roll into small balls -( I used a teaspoon cookie scoop.) place on baking sheet and then flatten. (I used the bottom of a glass)  then bake for 8 minutes.  remove from baking sheet and cool.

then cream butter and shortening, add vanilla and then powdered sugar to desired consistency.

take a moment to match up the cookies so that you have the sandwich ready- then, frost the bottom side of one cookie and top with its match.

Enjoy them, friends!  Be prepared, you won’t want just one.  😛

(the recipe was adapted from the Mommy’s Kitchen blog)

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

that certain someone

melodyannday1 Comment

One of my favorite photos of Dad with my three kiddos on Christmas Eve.

I have a distinct memory from my childhood.  Its as clear in my mind as if it happened just last weekend.  I was probably 9 or 10, sitting in a church service in the pew next to my sister while my parents ministered on the platform.  That was not unusual for us, by any means.  Our family traveled many weekends, all over southern Ontario, singing at churches and dad would preach.  But its one of the songs from our ministry that has been playing like a broken record in my head.  over and over and over again.

It was my dad’s solo, that he often sang.  “Someone is Praying for You.” The words go something like this:

Have the clouds round you gathered in the midst of the storm
Is your ship tossed and battered are you wearied and worn
Don’t lose hope someone’s praying for you this very day
And peace be still is already on the waves

Someone is praying for you, someone is praying for you.
So when it seems you’re all alone, and your heart will break in two.
Remember someone is praying for you

Well, I remember whenever I heard this song, I’d gather up a list in my mind of just exactly who those certain “someones” might be…  All of my grandparents were godly folks,  they were on there.  My GG, she was definitely at the top.  It was a fairly short list.  But beyond that, I’ve never really made sense of the song.  I mean, really – how could I be sure if someone was praying when I needed it?  Emotionally the idea felt good for my heart as that young ten year old girl.  But, it didn’t seem reasonable in practice.

In an effort to be completely transparent, I’ll tell you that sometimes it still doesn’t seem that practical or realistic to me.

This week the song has gone round and round in my head.  I could hear my dad’s voice singing those words clear as a bell.  Was I supposed to be the one praying?  Who was I supposed to pray for?  What did they need?  I had no earthly idea.  And then this morning, on my way to church, it came to mind again and I knew.  I knew I needed to pray for my dad, so I did.  I didn’t even know what I was praying for.  But my Heavenly Father did.

I found out later this evening that my dad, after being ill for more than 24 hours, spent the afternoon in the Emergency Room.  I had no idea.  But clearly, the words of the song came to pass.  Its so interesting to me how the Holy Spirit moved on my dad’s behalf, just as he has promised in Scripture.

There is no doubt that we are to be a praying people, at all times, without ceasing.  That is the command.

pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17)

And when I proceed the way He intended, living a life filled with prayer, He hears and answers.

Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. (1Jn 5:14)

And when we don’t know what to pray for, or how to pray, we have the promise of an intercessor:

Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. (Romans 8:26)

Turns out that certain “someone” is supposed to be me… And the even better news is, that in my humanity, if I’m completely unaware to His prompting, or if I’m unsure of what to pray for, there is a much better “someone” on every believer’s list of “who’s praying.”  It is the Holy Spirit himself, intervening on my behalf, communicating with the Heavenly Father when I  have no earthly idea what to say.  I’m especially thankful this was true today and I was able to be that ” certain someone” for my dad.

********************************

By the way, I believe dad is home resting and on the road to recovery after a rough bout with a nasty virus.  I’m sure he would be comforted to know you were his “someone” today…

a bit of history · friends and loved ones · in my kitchen

the comfort of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies

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Last evening we spent time with one of Michael’s cousins, Ross. He is actually Michael’s dad’s cousin.  That means Ross is my first cousin, twice removed, in-law.  I hope I’ve sufficiently confused you with all of this information.  At any rate, it was remarkable to meet this man.

Hearing him and Johnny (Johnny is my father-in-law) relive some of their history was very intriguing; it was like peeking through the windows into the soul of this wonderful family that I’m a part of now. Towards the end of our time together, I shared a bit about my history with Ross – and about how most of my family is far away and how I try to visit when I can.  And he looked at me and pointed, gently, as any only a good southern gentleman can do and said, “Go.  Go as often as you can. It will mean so much later.”

And I took his advice to heart. Later, I reviewed my day, I thought about all of its details; my train of thought went sort of like this:  school work, cleaning and laundry, piano lessons,  workout and baking cookies for a friend…stop.  Everyone knows I love to bake.  Sometimes I find a great recipe online, other times I come across something in a magazine or cookbook, once in a while a friend gives me a recipe.  But yesterday – yesterday I used a recipe for oatmeal cookies from my grandmother’s kitchen.

After all of the chatter with Michael’s family and the disappointment of not seeing mine any time soon, this thought began to shine warmly and tenderly, like the glow of a night-light in my heart:  When I was baking those cookies, it was like spending time with my grandmother.   I thought about her and my grandpa and our times together more than I had to pay attention to the ingredients or instructions, I know the recipe so well.  And though my friend came and took the sweets to an event, and I did not taste even one, the time spent was good for my heart.  There was comfort in making those cookies.

I’ve come to realize I can follow Ross’ advice in some ways without hopping on the next plane.  I can spend time with them, in my memories right here at home.  And I can keep doing things right here in my kitchen that will keep my thoughts of my loved ones real and fresh.

I apologize that there isn’t a particular Scripture for these thoughts.  I thought that one might come to me…I believe it is His Will that I value the things that are truly important- time with loved ones, laughter with friends- this is what makes life sweet.   Hopefully I can appreciate these things more in 2012. If I have to bake a few cookies to do it better this year than last, I guess that’s just the way it will have to be.  I wouldn’t want to let Ross down.

Thank you Heavenly Father that you are the giver of all good things.  Every perfect gift comes from you.  I treasure the family you have given me, near and far.  May I never take for granted the beautiful gift of family.  amen.

From James 1:17: Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.

a bit of history

The Suzuki Principle…

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I remember my first Suzuki group violin lesson. I was four and a half and I had my tiny 16th size violin with me. We sat on the white carpet facing Mrs. Douglas, our instructor, with violins resting horizontally in front of us. On that particular first day we learned the parts of the violin and how to hold it. I remember learning how to rosin the bow. Her house always had a wonderful aroma, like maybe she was going to surprise us with a delicious treat. This was the beginning of my Suzuki experience.

Now, you may not know that Suzuki is the art of training a young musician to play by ear. This is accomplished by listening over and over again to pieces of music, which you then learn to play by imitation. As a youngster I listened to the Suzuki book one and book two tapes daily. Even now, at thirty four I can pick up my violin, as rusty as I am with my instrument, and play any of those pieces. Its an amazing way of learning referred to as the ‘mother tongue method.’

The basic principle is this: As infants and toddlers, one learns to talk first by listening to their mother and repeating what she says. It is later on in life that one is able to read. This is also the musical approach – learn by listening and repetition while learning to read the music later. Just as it works with speech, it applies to music as well. And I am the poster child.

Today I became acutely aware that this can be true in other areas of life. My daughter Emily and I memorize Scripture verses together. Each week we learn a new one. Right now we are working through the Scripture packet for children from John Piper called, “Foundation Verses.” We read them, we write them for copy work, I say them and she repeats them. I am attempting to help her not just learn them, but understand them. Its my hope that they are sinking in because of our listening and repetition.

It may be working…

It just so happens that Emily has a few anxieties. They seem to overcome her late in the evening and they grow stronger as bed time rolls around. Some nights she gets wound up and cannot relax. Because she is a thinker, her questions are often deep and difficult to answer. Eventually she manages to go to sleep, but some nights it is just too much for her little mind. Tonight as she was asking me about tornadoes, the newest in her line up of self torturing fears, I asked her if she remembered a few of our recent Scripture verses. And she did!

“The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.” And then she began quoting all of our verses that we have rehearsed over and over. “He who keeps you will not slumber.” As she spoke these verses, I felt her fears leaving. My sweet Emily went to her room knowing her Heavenly Father was keeping watch over her. His peace seemed to be like a warm blanket wrapping around her as she went to bed tonight.

Scripture sort of gives its own approach to the Suzuki method :

From Deuteronomy 11

“Place these words on your hearts. Get them deep inside you. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder. Teach them to your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning until you fall into bed at night. Inscribe them on the doorposts and gates of your cities so that you’ll live a long time, and your children with you, on the soil that God promised to give your ancestors for as long as there is a sky over the Earth.”

Even though this was a word given to the Israelites, in their particular situation, I believe its still true for our family today. Just like I can play any of those Suzuki violin songs that I learned more than twenty five years ago – it is my prayer that this repertoire of Scripture verses will be a part of Emily’s being in that same way.

Some day when she is thirty four they will remain a part of her, brining peace and comfort from the Heavenly Father at a moments notice. Hearing her say those verses tonight was beautiful music to my ears. Thank you, God, for being the original Suzuki instructor.

md

(written March 7, 2010)

a bit of history · friends and loved ones · who knows?

Light for the journey…

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Once again, Michael and I have made an epic journey.  Well, its epic for us anyway.  A few days back we loaded our children into our little mini van and made the commitment, no turning back, to drive for 15 hours to Grand Rapids Michigan. Its big.  Its exhausting. Its surreal.

Typically we leave at 3 AM.  Personally, its an unbelievable departure time for this night owl.  Along about 6:30, it is still really dark and I’m ready to head back to bed.  But we make the promise each time we head out on the road trip to help keep each other awake.  A few more gulps of Starbuck’s espresso double shots, some good music and we manage to keep on trucking.

Michael drives the first six hours, that’s how we always roll – and I drive the second leg of the trip after we eat breakfast at Cracker Barrel just outside of Louisville, Kentucky.  This year was no different.

One rule that hasn’t changed since we began doing these trips is this :  whoever drives gets to pick the tunes. So, I picked out Chris Tomlin’s Glory in the Highest to help keep things festive.  As I listened, I was moved by the song, “Light of the World,” sung by Matt Redman.  “Jesus, full of grace and truth, shine on us…”

How I needed to hear those words!

Recently someone asked me a difficult question.  A gut wrenching question.  “How far does God’s grace cover us when we make foolish decisions?”  A friend was making choices that seemed so far from the truth I’ve come to know.  And I wrestled.  I tossed and turned at night.   I was sick to my stomach…

Jesus, by His grace and truth, is the LIGHT of the world.  He illuminates the darkest, furthest, corners, eliminating doubts and fears, undoing the devil’s plans for destruction and evil.

As I drove my part of the trip, I came to understand something so true for my friend’s life and my own as well.  Jesus, the son of God did not come to earth, shining brightly, offering himself as a gift, so that I would have to earn that same gift with my actions.

How far does God’s grace extend?  It extends as far as His Son’s bright light shines.   We cannot undo it.  We cannot deserve it.  He has revealed Himself to us with the brightest glory and no one can diminish it.   His grace and truth will never be extinguished.

As I traveled along I-69 outside of Indianapolis, I knew once again, Jesus  will bring glory to himself, shining His light of truth onto the dimmest places on my path. And the tears came-  tears of joy for this holy, indescribable, unspeakable gift- for the Word who became flesh, full of grace and truth.

He is the Light for my Journey.

amen.

********************************

These are the words, by Chris Tomlin, that I heard while driving.   Praise God, for this light that shines!

Oh Jesus, son of God, so full of grace and truth
The Father’s saving word, so wonderful are You
The angels longed to see and prophets searched to find
The glory we have seen revealed

You shone upon the Earth but who will understand?
You came unto Your own but who will recognize?
Your birth was prophesied, for You were the Messiah
Who came and walked upon the Earth

Your glory we have seen, the one and only King
And now You’re living in our hearts

Light of the world, light of the world
Light of the world, You shine upon us
Light of the world, light of the world
Light of the world, You shine upon us

In You all things were made and nothing without You
In Heaven and on Earth all things are held in You
And yet You became flesh, living as one of us
Under the shadow of the cross

Where, through the blood You shed
You have made peace again
Peace for the world that God so loves

Light of the world, light of the world
Light of the world, You shine upon us
Light of the world, light of the world
Light of the world, You shine upon us

And yet You became flesh, living as one of us
Under the shadow of the cross

Where, through the blood you shed
You have made peace again
Peace for the world that God so loves

a bit of history · in my kitchen

Christmas in the kitchen

melodyannday1 Comment

People have been asking me hard questions this holiday season that have made me think.  Not the least of which is a question that goes something like this:  Why in the world do you bake so much?   I never have an answer.  The words just won’t come that express how I feel.  So, I’ve had to do some soul-searching this year, back to a few of my Christmas memories.

Christmas in the kitchen during my childhood was a very special place for our family.  My mom would bake a lot of goodies, just as her mom had done years before.  We would spend time together mid the flour and sugar with our rolling pins and cookie cutters…  Some of my best and loveliest Christmas memories are centered on those times together in the kitchen.

How can I possibly create Christmas in my home, without spending time in my kitchen?  Its just not possible.

I don’t suppose my mom really knew back then that our time around the baked goods was such a treasured gift that I would want to give away in abundance someday.    But, isn’t that how giving works?  I mean, really and truly – when someone gives generously to me- I always want to give away more.

As I dwell a bit more on this season of giving, I’m able to answer another question that has been circling around in my heart and mind this season.  Why do I have such a desire to give gifts to my loved ones?  It is complicated to have such a desire when I also don’t want to be materialistic and focused on earthly things so much.  Well, I think I’ve caught a glimpse of the answer…

My Heavenly Father, gave the very best present when He sent His son.  It was wild and extravagant affection for us that made Him do it – setting into motion His ultimate plan to redeem each person who calls on His name.  Once I experienced His gift of love fully in my own heart, I became a giver too…  When I realized how much He loves me and gives the very best gifts to His children, I wanted to become that same kind of person.

And so, I give from the heart of my kitchen…  I love to bake for friends and family, not because they need to eat goodies.  No, I spend time and energy, love and affection, mid the flour and sugar just the way my mom did with us – and I give it to those who I want to show love.  And I am hopeful.  Hopeful that, as I set the example of giving love during this season, that those who receive my gift will feel it to the very tips of their toes and become givers too.

Isn’t’ that what this life is about – giving my life and my love away to others freely- just as Christ did?  Yes.  I believe that it is.    And that pretty much sums up the answer to the big question – I bake so much because the kitchen is where I can give away my love well.

May your Season of giving this Christmas be sweetened by the love of our precious Lord and Savior.

Merry Christmas.

a bit of history

Practice Does Not Make Perfect…

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I remember my first piano recital.  It was my first experience playing in front of a large group.  My piano teacher had selected me to play at the city-wide teachers’ recital in London.  To say that I was excited would be putting it mildly.  I had worked hard, practiced hours on end and felt confident.

Details about the large recital hall or the grand piano might be interesting.  I could share about the recital program or the outfit that I wore.  But all of that information grows dim in light of one important fact.

I messed up.  That’s right.  After all of my careful and exuberant practice, I made a mistake.    No amount of time can erase the moment from my memory.  I was playing the first movement of a Mozart Sonata in C major and as I approached the ending of the piece I lost my place.  And right there, in front of God and all of those piano teachers I edited the finale on the spot.  You heard me.  I made up my own ending and instantly demonstrated the best and worst of my musicianship all at once.   Not only am I terrible at concentrating, I’m fabulous at improvising.

As a professional musician, I find myself espousing a familiar saying.  I tell it to many of my students regularly and I’m afraid its just not true.  “Practice Makes Perfect.”  Or “Perfect practice makes for perfect playing.”  But it’s a gigantic falsehood.

No matter how many times you practice a particular piece to perfection – there will always be another level to attain.  Even if you can play all of the Mozart Sonatas without a flaw, there will be a master class to attend that will tell you how to play it even better.  Perfection is impossible.

In my own life I find myself imposing the “perfection” rule when it comes to being a believer.  I try to live up to standards that are impossible to attain.  And worse, I look to see if others are making the grade.  But God is not interested.  No matter how hard I work, my efforts are in vain.

“But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” (from 1Jn 2)

What a relief!  I don’t have to practice for perfection any more!  Because of God’s grace, and the gift of His Son, perfection is no longer required, let alone expected.  The pressure is off for me to perform perfectly.  I can relax because there is only one in the audience who matters and HE already sees perfection.  Jesus’ perfect work on the cross has taken my place on the stage.

This is a work He’ll keep on performing right until my finale – and it needs no improvising from me!  Praise God!

md

(written January 3, 2010)