In a way, it was my best friend. Heaven knows we spent hours and hours together. I didn’t talk to it, but you can bet your boots I talked through it. As well as sang, laughed, and cried through it. True, I showed up on campus with many a classical music faux pas, like pronouncing Mozart “Moe-zart” rather than “Mote-zart.” I butchered other composer names, too. But play their music? I could do that.
Most technical things like difficult rhythms didn’t come naturally, I had to buckle down and tackle those bad boys til they did. But I could bring out the musicality in most anything. And because I had a natural bent to make people feels something through my music, I got a college degree in music education with my instrumental focus in oboe.
I performed some after college, taught private lessons, and taught in the public schools. But then babies came and cross country moves piled up alongside diapers, so I traded that love in for another one: staying home with my wee-watts. I still bring out my music time to time, but for the most part my oboe remains perched on a shelf.
Then I attend a live performance of George Fredric Handel’s Messiah with full orchestra and choir. When I hear the oboe’s silky smooth tone, it seems the heavens open and I remember a part of me from long ago. In my mind’s eye, I’m right back to sitting principal in my short black dress with the lace sleeves, simultaneously sweating from nerves and bursting from joy.
I started to miss my former self, the way I could get all caught up in creating art through sound. I looked at my daughter smiling from the music and my sons {mostly} listening, and then I remember how very much I love this season, too. Not that I couldn’t gel the two together, parenting and playing or parenting and teaching. I used to. But I don’t feel led to re-open that door right now. Later, who knows? Now is just now, not forever. I get a kick out of watching for what new seasons hold while being thankful for today’s. Each season – each day, really – is a uniquely orchestrated song. All my yesterdays, todays and tomorrows coax me into playing the song He orchestrates for me.
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ…”
Colossians 4:2-3
May you look around and find joy and gratitude in your song of today while watching for the music of tomorrow. And as Emily says, find the life bursting with the mystery of God. His music is in every moment.
And in case you don’t know the oboe from your elbow {most folks don’t unless you’re a bit nerdy like me}, here is a little introduction to it {played by someone much better than me}:
Happy to link up today with Emily’s Tuesdays Unwrapped.
“I started to miss my former self, the way I could get all caught up in creating art through sound.”
Music does that for me , too. It is one of the things I do, that is in the moment – very vertical.
Praying right now friend – that God makes a way for you to make that art on a regular basis!
xoxoxo
It is a vertical experience, isn’t it? I love that! Listening to music does the same thing for me, although with a little less of the thrill! I hope I get to hear you sing someday, friend. Maybe a performance at Relevant ’12? 🙂
“creating art through sound” – that is a wonderful feeling, isn’t it? I play the piano and I love that sense of getting lost in the music as it comes out from under the keys. I don’t play as much now as I used to (and I have no natural sense of rhythm at all), but I still love the music. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy this music with your children even if you’re not in a season of playing regularly now – and who knows where you might be led in the future?
If I had to choose one thing to do better, I’d choose musical expression over rhythm. Rhythm *can* be learned, but the musicality comes from within. I hope I get to hear you play sometime, Amy! *That* would be fun!
You make beautiful music in all you do. Yesterday, today and tomorrow!
Thanks, Sista! xoxo
beautiful post and love the photo of the oboe (my hubby was an oboe player also!)…Your words are so in line with my own unwrapped gift today of accepting this moment in time, not living in our past joys, but seeing what is today. I too have struggled with that. It was good to read your post. thank you.
I loved your post, Kathi! Here’s to the song of today!
Love this, Kristen! His music is most definitely in every moment. Beautiful post!
Thank you for always encouraging, Jamie. You are golden! xo
I don’t have a season that I wish to go back to, but I find myself wanting to push forward into the season I know is ahead. Living right here, right now, in this season is a hard thing. You are doing it with such grace:)
Thanks for popping in and commenting on my blog. Lovely to have you there!
Thank you for sharing the oboe with me, Kristen. It was beautifully played.
Kristen, I love your post — and these words particularly sink deep: “Now is just now, not forever. I get a kick out of watching for what new seasons hold while being thankful for today’s.” Such hope and wisdom here. Thank you!
Love this – beautifully written, wise words, “watching for what new seasons hold while being thankful for today’s…gratitude for the song of today while watching for the music of tomorrow.” Acceptance for today and hope for tomorrow. The oboes were next door to us flutes in the orchestra line-up. I miss those days of music and practice and being a part of the power of orchestrated song. Thanks for bringing out those memories.
This one hits home. I love knowing there’s another music-degree momma in the world, finding beauty in the now while babes call for Cheerios and the instrument collects dust. Thanks for this encouragement, Kristen. I needed to hear it (as my piano rusts in the corner).
This year, 2011, I have finally decided to reacquaint myself with my flute. As you well know, Kristen, my flute was, for many years, a guiding force in my life… however, I had abandoned it while I taught, tried to be the wife I thought I wanted to be, and desperately pursued motherhood. After the “colossal life crash of 2009” passed, and I realized I was all right – even better than before maybe – I decided something I truly desired to add back into my life was music. So far, I only play at church… I enjoy the opportunity to play in a nonstress environment and worship through a talent He gave me.
Kari, I am super thrilled you are becoming reacquainted with your flute again! Oh, what talent He gave you. You make it sing!
I’m so thankful for you and your words in this space, Kari!