We each have a life story, penned without ink, read by the people around us. Who's writing your story?

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Hearing the Music . . . Behind the Scenes # 10

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I reached for yet another cough drop while a cup of ginger-lemon tea seeped on the counter. I had tried every home remedy I knew. Would I ever feel better? My mounting frustration escaped with a sigh that produced a fit of coughing. This wasn't the way I wanted to spend the days my daughter was home on college break. I don't get sick often, but when I do . . . 

God has a way of gently teaching us at times like this, times when we feel weak and far from adequate. Remember the story of the piano lesson from my last post? A child had practiced so hard to plunk out a simple tune with his little stubby fingers. And then the teacher sat down and played along with him. As the keys yielded to his touch, beautiful music echoed in the studio. As the last notes died away, the teacher smiled. "You did what you could, and I did the rest."
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I think that sometimes God takes us by the hand and leads us to the window, parts the curtain, and gives us a glimpse of what He is doing. While confined to the rocking chair, sipping tea, I began to connect the dots of God working in ways I never could have imagined.

I could almost hear the music.

In early December, my publisher mentioned in a weekly newsletter that if authors were interested in doing an audio book to let him know. I never thought of this option so with cautious curiosity emailed him. Within a week, I had four people audition as readers for Penned Without Ink. How would I know who to choose? Although I occasionally enjoy listening to books in the car, I had no experience whatsoever. With the help of a few writer friends and family members, we narrowed it down to two, then I sent in my # 1 and # 2 choices, praying all the while that I had made the best decision.

Shortly thereafter, my # 1 choice emailed me, asking about the correct pronunciation of a few names. She also shared with me that she had done her nurse's training at the same hospital I was in for the three weeks immediately after our car crash. Although the times didn't line up, she had walked those same hallways and cared for patients in that same location. What a connection! In spite of my hand-wringing over which reader to choose, God placed us together. 

During the holidays, I also received a letter from my aunt written on behalf of a distant relative who, because of macular degeneration, could not see to read. My aunt told her about my book, which her son ordered and reads to her on his occasional visits. She wanted me to know what an encouragement it has provided, and please, would I make my book available to the Association for the Blind in Albany, New York?

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I know a little about the Association for the Blind because of Barry's eye challenges. He received many large-print and audio books on loan. This was another avenue I had not yet considered. And the request came at the precisely the same time the audio book "happened" to be in process! As soon as the audio is up and running, I'll be on the phone, pursuing opportunities to encourage many with deteriorating vision.

The holidays have slipped into the past, and I'm feeling much better. Yet I hope I will always remember the blessing of sipping ginger tea in the rocking chair, reflecting on God's faithfulness. 

We do what we can and God does the rest.

Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name,
for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago.
Isaiah 25:1 (NIV)

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Striking a Balance

Is it just me, or is January 2018 zipping by at breakneck speed?

Seems I'm just getting around to reflecting on the new year's possibilities along with a few goals and hopeful intentions. In the process I reached for one of Barry's books I finished in 2017 and found the page with the corner turned down. Sometimes when you don't have time to think about something in the moment, it's nice to go back and find it again - this time to digest it slowly, like savoring a candy bar you saved for later. 
Here's what I've been thinking about (along with making time for rest, exercise, and connecting with people):
Reading is a sober discipline, and all discipline is difficult. It requires work, diligence, concentration, practice, and maturity.
But that is the way it is with anything worthwhile. The best things in life invariably cost something. People have to sacrifice to attain them, to achieve them, to keep them, and to enjoy them. 
That is one of the most important lessons anyone can learn in life. It is the message that most parents realize that they ought to instill in their children: Patience, commitment, diligence, constancy, and discipline will ultimately pay off if their children are just willing to defer gratification long enough for the seeds they have sown to sprout and bear fruit.
A flippant, shallow, and imprecise approach to anything . . . is ultimately self-defeating.* 
Maybe sometimes in the heat of the day, we forget that "anything noble takes effort." 

I read another book, this one requested for Christmas by one of my daughters. I have a habit of reading the books I gift, both before and after they're opened! This one started out with an allegory about a student who wanted to take piano lessons. He practiced and practiced. When he plunked out his little tune during his lesson, the teacher came alongside him and began to play. Melodious music filled the room. When they finished the teacher smiled and said, "We make pretty good music together."

The boy looked up at him. "You don't mean we, do you?

"Yes. We made the music together. You did what you could, and I did the rest."**

The story includes many wonderful scenes and lessons, but this line struck a cord with me. We often are like the child . . . practicing commitment and diligence, working hard . . . as we should. Yet our efforts often seem like the awkward tune the boy struggled to play. And that's when the Master Teacher comes alongside us and whispers, "You do what you can, and I will do the rest."

Striking a balance? There will always be a tension between the hard work of taking our responsibilities seriously and watching/hearing God make our labored efforts sing. In the next post or two, I'll be sharing some examples of this very thing.
 
*Going Somewhere: A Dan and Bea Adventure by George Grant (Nashville: Cumberland House, 1999). 254.
**When Being Good Isn't Good Enough by Steve Brown (Brenham: Lucid Books, 2014), 24.

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