“Be wary of the world, lest it unawares steals away your heart.” Susanna Wesley
Snapshots bring back memories for blog postings and this suggestion was a bit strange. The one I refer to was taken in Brazil during a street meeting. The picture is of Doris playing the cowbells and believe or not, I’m accompanying her on the accordion. Doris had the talent for music since she played the piano, the organ, the cowbells and often led church and school choirs. When out in coffee country Doris went with me to play the portable organ or her accordion. And me? I always was just dragging along, trying to keep up.
I love music, good music and some of that goes back to a class in Music Appreciation that I took in college. I had the entire required course under my belt so I could take an easy one just to get the credits. This class did what it was supposed to do—Mrs. LaDue taught me to love good music—classical music. Actually when I was a child on the family farm I took some 25 piano lessons. But I hated to practice. The piano was in the parlour I would skip out the door to more exciting outside stuff.
My mother played the piano though I seldom heard her hit a note. My sister Grace played it and my brother Clifford fitted in with his mouth organ. Dad liked nothing better than the family to get together to play and sing—the old hymns of course. It was common to hear him singing as he went about the farm work. Add to that, the little Pine Grove church where our family attended had a pump organ on which my sister-in-law Gwen played the grand old hymns that had instructed the church for centuries. Those hymns still raise goose bumps.
That is the windup. Now this is the story of when we moved out into coffee country. There I felt the need for music for we purposed to travel to interior towns to plant churches. The result—I bought an accordion. But it was not for me, it was for Doris. As I look back, surely that purchase must have been with her permission. The important part of the story is that without even one lesson she soon was playing the accordion wherever we went.
It was during our second term in Brazil, Doris showed me where middle C was located among all that mixture of black and white keys. And she showed me how it related to the music on a page of the hymnal. I’d like to say that my talents helped me so I was soon playing the accordion. No way. No matter how I practiced there were too many notes for my fingers.
But desperation is the father of invention. So a couple of times when Doris had nobody to accompany her on the cow bells—I was forced to give a hand. Would you believe it—on the accordion?
We’ve all heard those marvelous stories of people who discovered an exceptional talent and went on to become famous. That was not me. But I trust God that I did use any other of my few talents to build His Kingdom. No matter that people covered their ears when I attempted to play. This I know—I used the talents I had. I hope it is the same for you.