A tale of two instruments

At the end of the last half term, Joel had to make a musical instrument.  This was homework; the instrument could be anything - but it needed to be ready for the last day of the half term, when they'd use them all for making a piece of music.  This Magnum opus was to sound like a rain storm...

We started work in plenty of time.  Joel had decided that he wanted to make a guitar.  I had found a tissue box, and the ubiquitous elastic bands.  It was all going so well...

There was nothing in the brief about making the instrument look beautiful.  But with the time available, I decided (yes reader, I brought this entirely on myself, Joel was not bothered either way) that decorating the tissue box would be a good idea.  We set to it, cutting and sticking an array of different coloured paper all over the box.  It was beautiful.  However, it had already set us on the road to disaster...

I'm quite practical - or so I like to think - especially 'for a girl'...  However, I had not foreseen the effect that the gluing would have of the structural integrity of the tissue box.  Once the box was dry, it had warped beyond all recognition.  Joel was not amused.  It looked (and more to the point, sounded) pretty rubbish - which to all intents and purposes is exactly what it was.  Our failure was only compounded by seeing one of Joel's friend's attempts at a guitar; complete with correctly shaped body, neck, frets - the whole caboodle.

There was nothing to be done; we had to make something else.

I found the mouth piece from a party blower, a cardboard tube and a plastic pot; and left Joel and his Daddy to assemble a 'clarinet'.  I was already feeling chastened by my previous attempt, and to be honest I knew that with minimal time to spare (the rain storm concert was the next day), the instrument was more likely to be structurally sound if built by the engineer in the family...  I restricted myself to cutting the desired lengths of sticky tape.

And thus Joel went to school the next morning with an instrument that he loved.  Not because it was pretty, but because it actually worked.  He later told me that there had been endless shakers, guitars, drums etc. but his had been the only wind instrument in the building...  At least I can claim to have been the brains behind the operation, and the best sticky tape dispenser in Warwickshire!

Time to worry, or time to sleep?

I've just put my younger son Nathan to bed.  He was really over tired, cranky and sad.  Throwing tantrums over the smallest things; apparently teeth brushing is tantamount to torture...  Above all, he wanted to not go to bed...  Unfortunately, this was the only thing that could improve the situation, so Mummy just had to persevere and get the little man into bed.  Once he'd calmed down, he went to sleep in about ten seconds.

It got me thinking:  how often do we do the same thing?  How many problems that we get ourselves worked up about; seemingly disastrous occurrences; could actually be improved by a good night's sleep?  How often do we worry needlessly, when we should really just go to bed?

There's a story in the Bible that I find really encouraging that's found in 1 Kings 19.  In a nutshell, Elijah has been very busy doing some awesome stuff for God, but then the King (a nasty piece of work called Ahab) and Queen (an equally nasty piece of work called Jezebel) find out about it, and threaten to kill Elijah.  He does what we'd all feel like doing in this situation - runs away and hides...

He then goes to sleep, and then is visited by an angel who basically tells him to eat, and then rest again, giving him the food that he needs.  God knew that Elijah was good for nothing without adequate food and sleep.  Remind you of anyone?

It's only after this that he goes and meets with God who comforts him and shows him the way forward.

I hope that little by little I might be learning which disasters need immediate attention, and which only need me to trust them to God and go to sleep.  God knows, I too am good for nothing without adequate food and rest.

I believe in angels...

Deep breath... OK - so yesterday evening I was at church - and I saw an angel.

I fully accept that some of you will now think I've properly gone bonkers - but honestly, I haven't.

People around me were praying.  Asking God to speak, and to make a difference to somebody's life; to show her how much He loved her, and that she could have a better life than the one she had now.  There was a whole load of stuff going on - and I looked up - and there he was.

He looked golden.  Very tall, and very strong looking - nothing remotely 'cherub' about this guy.  He was wearing a robe, and he held a huge sword.  He just stood there, with a quiet authority (I don't think he was the sort of being you would argue with), and when I looked around later, I couldn't see him anymore.

It made me think about how amazing it is that there is a whole spiritual world around us that's every bit as real as the physical world we spend most of our time focusing on.  How awesome it is that God sends angels into action in response to our prayers.  I also thought how cool it is that - regardless of how we feel - we never have to be alone, because God can be with us all the time; and that He has legions of angels at His command, who can guard our every step if needs be.

I'm not claiming to be an expert - after all, there must be billions of angels, and I've only ever seen one - but I'm hoping this experience will encourage me (and maybe you) to look beyond the end of my own nose; to see the amazing things God is doing all the time in the world around me; to look at the world with different eyes.

It's all gone a bit Lemony Snicket...

By this, I mean wrong...  Or more precisely - there has been a series of unfortunate events.

Whilst chatting to a good friend of mine this week, we were discussing a particular incident - and having claimed it to be unfortunate a number of times - we came to the conclusion that it had all gone a bit Lemony Snicket...

I've said for a long time (I think since a stressful time during A levels - or even before...) that problems wouldn't be problems if they had the good grace to come one at a time - you'd just deal with whatever it was, and move on.  (Granted, this rule doesn't work for the proper grade A crises, just the petty annoyances of everyday life...  I understand more about this now).

The thing I find most difficult to cope with, is when a whole load of things seem to come at you at once.  It leaves you no time to process each one - let alone find a solution; not even time to file it in an appropriate place for dealing with later.  You're just left gasping under the weight of the millions of small, otherwise manageable tasks.

I know I'm by no means the first person to feel this way; and actually, that gives me hope.  There are so many bits in the Bible, where people pour out their hearts and their troubles to God; knowing that He understands, and more than that - that He can actually make a difference to their situation too. 

Psalm 34:17-19 (New International Version) says:

"The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
A righteous man may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all."

Sometimes you just have to hold on...   Oh well, time to just keep swimming I suppose...

Has anyone seen my show-off gene? (or La la laaaa 2)

I've had another couple of singing lessons now.  (I know - it's taken us a while to get going - we're very busy people...)  The thing that continues to strike me, is how frustrating it is being a bit shy.

This is so very true in singing. I can sing so much better when I'm relaxed.  I can hit notes I thought were well out of the reach of a die-hard alto like me. 

I understand why this is.  Everything seems to tighten in my throat / pharynx / larynx when I'm nervous...  Why I'm nervous doesn't seem to matter.  The same thing happens whether I'm worried about what the people listening are thinking, or if there's just a tricky / high note or phrase coming up.  I guess I just need to learn to chill out, and practice deliberately relaxing those muscles...  Easier said than done though.

It's times like this that I wish I was more of a show-off, hence the blog title.  There are times in life when it's easier to be a 'look at me!' sort of person.  I used to wish for this when I was teaching antenatal classes; but actually - once I got into it - I actually quite enjoyed it.  For me in this context, confidence came through feeling like I knew what I was talking about.

Singing seems different though somehow.  There are so many uncontrollable variables.  Will my voice crack?  Will I breathe in the right place - or will I run out of air halfway through?  Will I hit that note, or end up flat?  Will people like what they hear?  The list is endless...

Helpfully, the place I sing most in public - is in church.  When other people can hear me, it's generally because I'm leading the worship at the front - and thus I have a microphone.  Singing in this context is immensely liberating, as I know a number of vital things:

1. The people there are there to focus on God - not on me
2. I'm singing primarily for God, the fact that this then helps lead others is secondary
3. Most of the people there know me, and love me - so they're not going to be bothered if I throw in a bum note occasionally. (This is just as well - as the likelihood of a wrong note increases exponentially when I'm playing the guitar as well!)

I'm hoping the fact that I'm not naturally a performer actually glorifies God all the more.  I offer up to Him my shyness, along with everything else; knowing that this is the God who turns water into wine, ashes into beauty and desperation into hope.  All things are possible with God...  I just have to remember that when I'm reaching for the high notes!