Sick. Hurt. Brokenhearted. Afraid. Disappointed. Terrified. Exhausted. Alone. Remorseful.
Those were the emotions and feelings that occupied most of last week for me. It started out with the Mother's Day fiasco and continued. I had to rush my daughter to the emergency department for a laceration repair, my mom found out that the hardware that holds her broken leg together fell apart, and I ended up more ill than I have been in years and years. I am still sad and disheartened over the circumstances in one of my close friendships and even my husband and I were not clicking along as we usually do.
Yuck.
I did all the normal things that I know to do during seasons like this. I spent extra time with God, I read His word and other material that would help me see things in a more positive light. I contacted a couple of close friends (I was so down that even THAT took a couple of days) and told them what was going on. I went to my yoga class, ate healthy, got extra sleep and tried keeping my focus on God and His wonderful goodness. I almost canceled out on my Thursday night support meeting, but went anyway, knowing I needed the encouragement and support more than anything.
But I still felt yuck.
However, there were two events this week that lifted my spirits and soothed my soul. On Wednesday night, I attended my daughter's end of year band concert. I was running a horrible fever and felt like I had been under the rear of a sitting elephant, but she was playing three solos in this concert and I wasn't about to miss them. So, I drugged myself with ibuprofen, put extra color on my pasty cheeks and went to the band concert. Now, I really enjoy middle school band concerts. Some people complain about them, but they warm my heart. The director always is so proud and the kids are so fun to watch. No matter how they play, they believe they played beautifully. I love to give them tons of applause and I love to watch them stand and bow to the audience. Tonight was no exception. My daughter played perfectly. She looked lovely. And the concert warmed my cold and hurting heart. The Beginner band played my favorite song from my third grade music class. The memories came flooding into my heart and for a few short minutes, I was eight years old again. It was well worth the effort it took for me to attend and I experienced joy in the midst of a crummy week.
A couple of days later my daughter, my mother and I attended the Texas Flute Society Annual Flute Festival at University North Texas. This has become an annual event and it has been so much fun in past years that I invited my mom to join us. And we were not disappointed. The sounds of flutes filled the buildings and the air outside. Children and adults young and old, there to learn, to perform, to enjoy and to participate in the wonder of music. The highlight (besides my daughter's performances) was our introduction to a Beat boxer and his "band".... Greg Patillo and Project. Cool, cool stuff. His concert was amazing and my daughter was impressed. We had the opportunity to talk to these musicians, get autographs, and even a photo. Rebecca's flute case is now permanently signed by Greg Patillo and she will cherish it for years to come.
As I walked around, sat and listened, and allowed the music to fill my being, there was a renewed sense of what is lovely in the world. I still felt a little under the weather due to the sinus infection that I have, I still felt upset about my mom's leg and upcoming surgery, I still felt remorse for some things that I have done wrong, and I was still sad over the condition of my friendship, but it was OK. I was OK. Life is OK, in fact, not just OK...beautiful. The antibiotics will take care of the illness. My mom's surgeon is very capable. My daughter has forgiven me. And there is hope in my friendship.
As we left the festival, my attitude was different. My circumstances were the same, but my prayer had been answered, I enjoyed what was present. God is with me right now, and if I am living in the past or looking to the future, then I will miss what He has for me today. He showed me that in a big way this past weekend. And He used the beautiful language of music to speak to me, to help heal me. Music is medicine for the soul.
Those were the emotions and feelings that occupied most of last week for me. It started out with the Mother's Day fiasco and continued. I had to rush my daughter to the emergency department for a laceration repair, my mom found out that the hardware that holds her broken leg together fell apart, and I ended up more ill than I have been in years and years. I am still sad and disheartened over the circumstances in one of my close friendships and even my husband and I were not clicking along as we usually do.
Yuck.
I did all the normal things that I know to do during seasons like this. I spent extra time with God, I read His word and other material that would help me see things in a more positive light. I contacted a couple of close friends (I was so down that even THAT took a couple of days) and told them what was going on. I went to my yoga class, ate healthy, got extra sleep and tried keeping my focus on God and His wonderful goodness. I almost canceled out on my Thursday night support meeting, but went anyway, knowing I needed the encouragement and support more than anything.
But I still felt yuck.
However, there were two events this week that lifted my spirits and soothed my soul. On Wednesday night, I attended my daughter's end of year band concert. I was running a horrible fever and felt like I had been under the rear of a sitting elephant, but she was playing three solos in this concert and I wasn't about to miss them. So, I drugged myself with ibuprofen, put extra color on my pasty cheeks and went to the band concert. Now, I really enjoy middle school band concerts. Some people complain about them, but they warm my heart. The director always is so proud and the kids are so fun to watch. No matter how they play, they believe they played beautifully. I love to give them tons of applause and I love to watch them stand and bow to the audience. Tonight was no exception. My daughter played perfectly. She looked lovely. And the concert warmed my cold and hurting heart. The Beginner band played my favorite song from my third grade music class. The memories came flooding into my heart and for a few short minutes, I was eight years old again. It was well worth the effort it took for me to attend and I experienced joy in the midst of a crummy week.
As I walked around, sat and listened, and allowed the music to fill my being, there was a renewed sense of what is lovely in the world. I still felt a little under the weather due to the sinus infection that I have, I still felt upset about my mom's leg and upcoming surgery, I still felt remorse for some things that I have done wrong, and I was still sad over the condition of my friendship, but it was OK. I was OK. Life is OK, in fact, not just OK...beautiful. The antibiotics will take care of the illness. My mom's surgeon is very capable. My daughter has forgiven me. And there is hope in my friendship.
As we left the festival, my attitude was different. My circumstances were the same, but my prayer had been answered, I enjoyed what was present. God is with me right now, and if I am living in the past or looking to the future, then I will miss what He has for me today. He showed me that in a big way this past weekend. And He used the beautiful language of music to speak to me, to help heal me. Music is medicine for the soul.
Our God, I am faithful to you
with all my heart,
and you can trust me.
I will sing
and play music for you
with all that I am.
Psalm 108:1
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