(transferred from my CaringBridge page from 3/5/13)
One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.
~ Bob Marley
This weekend, I had the distinct privilege of experiencing one of my favorite jazz pianists and composers—Joe Sample. Working with the likes of Miles Davis, B.B. King, Eric Clapton and George Benson (to name a few), Joe incorporates jazz, gospel, blues, Latin and even classical style into his amazing compositions.
Jazz. There’s something about listening to it that brings such peace to my spirit—in many ways like a deep soul massage. Just thinking about Joe Sample’s music relaxes my shoulders. I’ve always found the best musicians to have a distinct sound that can easily be discerned from the ears of a true fan, even if you were blindfolded. Sample could play a simple melody like Chopsticks on the same Yamaha as hundreds of other pianists, and still have it sound incredibly unique to him. At one point during his performance, he talked about all the painful hours he has spent exercising his fingers. He continued to share that the exercises were not about how well he could execute an entire piece of music, but instead how well his fingers landed on each key. The precise placement of his fingers touching each key—determined the kind of sound only he can produce.
This past week was tough. No sugar-coating . . . it was exhausting, trying and demanding of all my focus and energy. “Mental drain” sums it up well. In a moment during the week when my spirit seemed too weak to think let alone pray, it brought priceless encouragement to see one of Colby’s scriptures on my mirror: “Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7) Because He cares for you.
I was doubly blessed to have my mom join me on Thursday for chemo. While we were able to have some great one on one time, I was also able to share some of my struggles with her. Though I can’t imagine the intense pain a mother must feel having a sick child with no way to fix it, my mom always encourages me while also allowing me to have moments of weakness, moments of human frailty—without going into meltdown zone because of my lack of optimism. Though people don’t mean to communicate additional stress, often a sick person feels pressured with an expectation to be perpetually positive. “Stay positive” is the mantra of choice. The mentality behind the saying is sensible and wise, yet with it comes the added anxiety of probable failure. Instead, my mom listens earnestly, never discouraging me from expressing honest pain. She’s the perfect best friend/mother combination—loyal, unconditional, honest, loving and true . . . never letting me sit in worry and confusion, but also never dismissive about my feelings. I thank God every day for her.
Sometimes we put our Faith in full compositions, instead of individual key strokes. I often find myself busy praying over the big picture instead of the smaller, intricate steps that would be easier to hit with ease and precision. I need to exercise my Faith the same way Joe exercises his fingers . . . not on a mission to perfectly execute my ballad of sorts. Instead, the crux of this composition laid out before me is about the way my fingers graze each key.
I recognize that every step along the way of this trial is going to be difficult, even unbearable at times. If I look too far down the road, it will be easier to falter. Instead, I need to look at the placement of my feet, one step at a time . . . trusting the Lord’s lead.
“Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One who is leading.” ~Oswald Chambers
This week marks week 9. Almost ½ way there!