We pile in the beast and journey across town. He's dressed in his Sunday best with hair that wouldn't move in the strongest of storms. It's the first recital of his fourteen years. He hasn't been playing all that long and the nerves have hit just a bit.
Families crowd into seats. Students of all ages sit a bit green waiting for their moment.
Everyone turns as her wedged shoes clunk down the middle isle. Taking her place she lays her hands to the ivory and begins to fluently roll out the notes. Suddenly, fear begins to rise. Her cheeks flush and her hands begin to shake. The lack of focus fumbles her appendages onto the wrong keys. Flustered she tries to find her way back. Still visibly shaking she takes a breath and resumes her way to the melody once again.
He's next - that handsome red-head of ours. Surprisingly composed, he takes his place and with bow in hand tickles the strings in time to the piano. Still a bit nervous, he wipes the sweat from his palms down the front of his pants. Without missing a beat he continues on. Keeping his fingers tight around the wooden neck yet giving the bow its freedom to glide. Intently focused he finishes in splendor.
The last one to the stage walks with confidence. It would appear she has command of the keys but halfway through it falls apart. One wrong note after another I can see her jaw tighten...the neck and cheeks flash red...hands stiff and shaking. With each moment of wrestle between her and the ivory she looses her way a little more.
I understand.
I struggle this way too at times. Not with musical notes...with life notes.
I'm learning to open the sweaty palms and trust the one who wrote the song. Let the bow of my life freely glide over the strings of living and play the notes God has written out for me. Breathe, refocus and find my way back to the melody so I can carry on without missing a beat and finish my race.
Until then...
Jessie
Families crowd into seats. Students of all ages sit a bit green waiting for their moment.
Everyone turns as her wedged shoes clunk down the middle isle. Taking her place she lays her hands to the ivory and begins to fluently roll out the notes. Suddenly, fear begins to rise. Her cheeks flush and her hands begin to shake. The lack of focus fumbles her appendages onto the wrong keys. Flustered she tries to find her way back. Still visibly shaking she takes a breath and resumes her way to the melody once again.
He's next - that handsome red-head of ours. Surprisingly composed, he takes his place and with bow in hand tickles the strings in time to the piano. Still a bit nervous, he wipes the sweat from his palms down the front of his pants. Without missing a beat he continues on. Keeping his fingers tight around the wooden neck yet giving the bow its freedom to glide. Intently focused he finishes in splendor.
The last one to the stage walks with confidence. It would appear she has command of the keys but halfway through it falls apart. One wrong note after another I can see her jaw tighten...the neck and cheeks flash red...hands stiff and shaking. With each moment of wrestle between her and the ivory she looses her way a little more.
I understand.
I struggle this way too at times. Not with musical notes...with life notes.
I'm learning to open the sweaty palms and trust the one who wrote the song. Let the bow of my life freely glide over the strings of living and play the notes God has written out for me. Breathe, refocus and find my way back to the melody so I can carry on without missing a beat and finish my race.
Until then...
Jessie
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