Sunshine On My Shoulders

Link #2: Yo-Yo Ma to Wedding

 
While teaching, I'll often ask, "Kids, is your oatmeal cooking?"

In case you cannot figure that one out, I'm referring to using their brains! They will often quip back, "I think my oatmeal burned!" Or they will say, "the burner won't turn on!"

Well... yesterday my oatmeal was cooking, and as I promised, I'll let you in on my multi-level thinking, by connecting the second link, "Yo-yo to Wedding."

Cropping a section of my daughter's wedding program, I want you to see her music selections.

 
Music was always important to my kids (see The Music of My Walls post), and it played an integral part in my daughter's wedding ceremony, which by the way, took place five years ago this very week. (HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, Rebekah & Nick!!!) That beautiful piece I mentioned in my last post, Yo-Yo Ma playing, "Gabriel's Oboe," was featured as the men entered the sanctuary. (See yellow arrow.)

Now you have the second link. While listening to Yo-Yo Ma's exquisite music, my mind had to find out more behind how it was composed, which led me to the story of a Jesuit priest, and then reminded me of my daughter's wedding.

Now, you must be wondering, just how does all this remind me of PIRATES? Well, I'll reveal that... in my next post. And you can have a glimpse at how one woman's thought patterns dance around! (Hey... I like that thought... my brain dancing!)

Link #1: Yo-Yo Ma to Jesuit Priest

Google Image, Salo Angel Falls in South America

You've been told how a woman's brain functions, with its multi-task, jumping around thinking, and spaghetti connections. Well... that is exactly the condition of my little gray cells this morning. I cannot think on just one topic!

For instance... what are the links in my thinking, that would connect Yo-Yo Ma to a South American, Jesuit priest of the mid-1700's, then to my daughter's wedding, and on to American piracy of the 1600's? Do you give up? Bet you do.

For years I have loved the expressive, "luminous meditations" played by famous cellist Yo-Yo Ma, called "Gabriel's Oboe," followed by "The Falls." Although revelling in the beauty, I had never researched the background. Today was my day to do so, as I sat listening to the album, Yo-Yo Ma Plays Ennio Morricone. This music was composed by the legendary (legendary... boy, am I ignorant!) Ennio Morricone, who has composed gifted  scores for numerous films. (I love getting educated! What took me so long?)

The two pieces that have delighted my spirit for so many years, "Gabriel's Oboe" and "The Falls," were written for the movie The Mission. Slave trading adventurers... swashbuckling... missionary fervor... repentance and redemption... all can be found within this 1986 epic movie. I've never watched it, as the violence inferred to is just not something I can stomach, especially when children are involved. (Perhaps I can watch it through Clear Play!) However... I want to understand Morricone's intent as he composed the music I have come to love. "Gabriel's Oboe" was written for the godly Jesuit priest, Father Gabriel, who played a magical oboe. And "The Falls" was written for the second main character, adventurer, Rodrigo Mendoza, who as part of his self-pennance, toted his heavy colonial armor up a vertical South American, jungle mountain pathway next to "The Falls," the only access to The Mission.

Reading about this movie, and sensing the intense human struggles and emotions portrayed in it, gives me more appreciation for my beloved music. (Have you noticed that when a piece of music becomes so personal to us, in a deep and moving way, that we begin to call it "my... music"?)

Now you understand the Yo-Yo Ma - Jesuit priest connection in my mind. In my next two posts, I'll let you in on my daughter's wedding... and the PIRATES connection. And how they all tie together in my spaghetti bowl brain.

See you then!

Simple Song of JESUS

Day 9 {25 Days of Thanksgiving}

  

Right now, this minute, I am listening to the song "Give Me Jesus," recorded by Fernando Ortega. It is a simple song that expresses... and emotes... the desire and purpose of my heart. I cannot listen to this recording without tears coming to the surface, and stopping to affirm my love to Jesus, and to acknowledge gratefulness to Him.

Ahhh... when you really know Jesus... you can really trust Him.

The Music of My Walls

If the walls of my home could speak...or sing...or play tunes...my, what wonderful sounds would delight my heart. Blessed sounds would return from all those seemingly endless years of piano and hammer dulcimer lessons, with the countless hours of practice. Or the sounds of my kids, as toddlers, marching around the house banging on pots while Daddy played his harmonica to When the Saints Go Marching In. Then they began singing Wee Sing or Patch the Pirate songs at the top of their lungs. As they grew older, beautiful hymns or other Christian arrangements, along with a variety of other melodious tunes filled the air. Their friends would visit, and would play-along or sing-along. As my kids matured, so did their music. There was never a day in our home that we did not have live music being played or sung. The musical sounds were a part of who we were as a family.

Josh used to say he dreamed music...and it was like another language to him. We would be awakened in the middle of the night to sounds of his hammer dulcimer music, as he had jumped out of bed to try a new composition or new technique. Daily through the years, we never tired of his banging, plucking or tap dancing on the instrument that seemed to have been chosen by God for our boy.

When Rebekah was contemplative...she played her piano. When she was hurt, or upset...she played her piano, banging out the music. When she was happy...she went straight to her piano. She would often pray as she played.

Can you imagine what our house was like after the nest became empty? The piano stood silent...the dulcimer was gone. Left behind were sounds...of silence. For a time, the music had ceased in my life. It felt to me like a death in the family. In time, God soothed and healed this mama's grieving heart...and He taught me the music was still there...only in a different way. My ears had not yet been trained to hear it...and along with the music, my joy returned.

This week my daughter's family came for dinner. As she always does when visiting, Rebekah went to her old piano...took out her old hymn book...and began playing away. But with one difference. At her side was her little one, Andrah Kate, banging away too, making the most beautiful ruckus, adding her own musical sounds to the walls of our home. Perhaps the expression is a bit trite, but I cannot resist using it..."and the beat goes on."