I miscounted last update. I didn’t have six weeks, I had five. Now I have four. As much as I can’t wait to see family at the Maggie P. and watch my best friend get married, June 26th is coming too quickly! It’s okay. Really. It just means I have a whole month to enjoy this paragraph in my life.
I present to you the events of this week in random order and of varying importance. Sprinkled in are a few things I’m grateful for that don’t simply pertain to this week. No, it didn’t take any less time to write, but I thought I’d try something different.
Monday (May 21st) Allison and I met to practice German but instead of spending money and sitting on our butts consuming calories we biked to Lörrach and earned our gelati!
I went to a medieval concert. It was free. It was beautiful. The hurdy-gurdy can do this crazy extra rhythm in the hand that spins the rosined wheel.
After the concert the performers were congratulated in German, French, and English. I wonder if that’s a requirement for putting on a concert here.
I stepped out of the concert. It was still dusk. My watch said 9:45.
I biked home. I passed a fountain bedecked with flowers pouring forth water clear and cool to drink. I heard music. It’s that unmistakable sound of Basel fifes practicing for Fasnacht. I caught a glimpse through an old window of them playing in a room of a quaint building whose old lettering elegantly informed it was Restaurant zum Rebhaus. I’m not just going home for the night, I’m biking through the streets of Europe.
I went to my harp lesson feeling like I had nothing to show. This week I’d simply played my pieces over and over trying to get comfortable and really bring out the sound and musical intent. She noticed, and we made progress. Forward motion is a very good thing!
I’m practicing the different “r” sounds in German and dialect. Es kommt!
Jimmy came over for lunch and we talked. Some company leaves you depressed, others leave you happy, but with a very few the conversation naturally flows back to God. I will miss Jimmy very much when he leaves on Tuesday.
My sister called. Jonathan told me many things.
My fiddle lesson was a joy.
God’s gift of a rose died, but now there are white roses in its place.
I played with Anne (fiddle) some peaces for my audition. Oh, how lovely to play with sensitive musicians!
Jimmy and Stephan listened to my harp arrangement for Sunday. Strangely, they did not make my nervous. That would be good, only I still don’t know how my harp playing will be effected by nerves!
The above company biked to Weil am Rhein for the Christian’s school’s spring music concert. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been to a kid’s concert. The ones in Japan don’t count because they were so different. I really enjoyed the first part when the kids sang Disney songs and tunes from Broadway musicals. Disney might not be my favorite, but for good or for ill it was a part of my childhood and has nostalgic value. It was also just fun to watch them having fun. I still love Chim Chimney, and Tomorrow means the end of the AT&T ball ride to me. The South Pacific number I’m going to wash that man right out of my hair is no longer my favorite just as my childhood idols of Brunhilda and Beatrice have lost their appeal, but for old time’s sake, it was fun to hear.
At the concert reception I had a ginger cookie. Home! Christmas! Home!
The light on the front of my bike powers the light in the pack of my bike.
A bird pooped in my hair and someone was there to help me get it out.
I’m playing oboe in church tomorrow. I play to bless, not to be perfect. I am glad to share my gifts and work with others.
I’m playing harp in church tomorrow. I’m an oboist. How did I get the privilege to play harp!
I love to play the oboe.
I’m in Switzerland. There’s a harp and a medieval fiddle in my room. I’m learning new (old) music. I never planned it. I never made it happen. God has guided my steps. He will continue to guide. The audition is in His hands. I didn’t get myself here and I can’t keep myself here. God got me here and my failures won’t stop Him from keeping me here if He wants me here. If He wants me here I want to be here. If He wants me elsewhere, I will learn to want to be elsewhere.
I have a computer that keeps me in touch with everyone I love across the globe.
A have a family that reads my blog and cares about what I write. They love me.
When I had no will to repent of the idolatry of my heart, there were prayer warriors who faithfully prayed for me until the Lord called me home.
The Lord has called me back to His bosom! There is no place like Home. To abide in Him is to have peace. I am weakness, but in Him I have strength to overcome that which has been an impossible burden, an impassible barricade.
When I falsely take credit for God’s work in me, He humbles me. Then He welcomes me back again with loving arms.
The faithful prayer warriors are still praying.
Love letters hang on my wall. One is on Japanese paper and the kids are smiling in the pictures. The special men in my life send their love. Billy’s came in different colors. Jonathan wrote my name and “I love you!” Noah gave me finger prints.
There are faithful commenters to my blog that make each post ten times more interesting and thought provoking than my solitary thoughts.
People are patient with me. God is patient with me.
God WILL not rest until I am made whole! I am not a slave to my passions for I have a helper who lives in me so that I may be able to resist every temptation. AMEN!
I’ll close with the words to the hymn I arranged for the offertory tomorrow. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I picked this piece. Andy, there’s still no arrangement like the one we did for my Junior recital in Isaac’s memory.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Come unto me and rest;
lay down, thou weary one, lay down
thy head upon my breast."
I came to Jesus as I was,
so weary, worn, and sad;
I found in him a resting place,
and he has made me glad.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Behold, I freely give
the living water; thirsty one,
stoop down and drink, and live."
I came to Jesus, and I drank
of that life-giving stream;
my thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
and now I live in him.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"I am this dark world's light;
look unto me, thy morn shall rise,
and all thy day be bright."
I looked to Jesus, and I found
in him my Star, my Sun;
and in that light of life I'll walk
till traveling days are done.
Words: Horatio Bonar, 1846
I'll avoid commenting on the more profound observations either because I don't know what they're about, or because I don't know what to say, or because they say themselves.
But what's the deal with Fasnacht? Is it more than once a year? Or were they just practicing in preparation for *next* year's?
*I* know what you mean when you say, "the Lord called me home" -- but bear in mind that phrase means something quite a bit different to most people.... :)
I agree absolutely. The arrangement you all did of I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say for Isaac was bar none the most wonderful I've ever heard. It makes the song bittersweet for me, however -- like In Christ Alone, and I Am the Bread of Life (the version with the "And I will raise them up" chorus). They are "Isaac songs."
I am aware that such random thoughts leave the door for misinterpretation wide open. This time I was just pouring our what was gushing in my soul. Perhaps not good all the time, but maybe okay for once in a while. I pray my readers give me the benefit of the doubt if they don't understand something.
Andy, they were just practicing for Fasnacht. It's a serious festival that takes serious practice. Hm, maybe that would be a good way to integrate into the community . . . Then I could practice my piccolo right outside Stephan's apartment. ;)
I don't know which Stephan you're referring to, but here's a pre-emptive and definite NO to practising piccolo within earshot. But it may well be a good way to integrate.
To anyone who might have been wondering if we have different seasons here in Europe: we don't. It was actually a spring concert.
Oh um, yeah. Spring concert. It was late. I've fixed it.
That note was entirely Jonathan's idea. He told me what he wanted to write and I spelled it for him and he wrote it all by himself. You also had the privilege of getting the first letter we sent after the postal rates changed. (:
Actually, I followed "called me home." I don't want to *snoop* between the lines, but I thought I knew what you were saying.
