Well, at least, that's the short of it. Here's the long.
Music was my safe ground in high school. I was messed up, I had no sense of identity, and so I used music to both find myself and lose myself. Also, my band and choir directors were both extreme influences in my life, and although we don't necessarily see eye to eye on everything now, they had such a positive impact on me. And - at the risk of sounding, erm, cocky - I was good at it! I could play piano better than anyone, I could sight read faster than anyone, I could sing something besides melody, I was the "first real percussionist we've had in a long time", I had a university professor interested in giving me weekly lessons. I was good. And I loved it. So I followed it.
And now, I'm left wondering if I was trying to turn a hobby into something more. When you take something that you love, and then study it and practice it and get critiqued on it day in and day out, it's almost like poking holes into it. The joy leaks out. I used to be excited to practice, to go to rehearsals, to have lessons. Anymore... well, I still do some days, and on others, I just want to scream.
I know that it's almost become a cliche to say how negative of an atmosphere the Fine Arts building has, but it's so true! All of these young adults came here chasing a love of theirs. And then, on top of that love, theory classes get thrown in. And aural skills (please, someone tell me how on earth you're supposed to train a sense). And ensembles. And sectionals for those ensembles. And proficiency tests, because it's not enough to just pass a class; you have to pass it and prove that you're proficient. And juries. And accompanying. And lessons. And recital attendance. And making upper levels. And music organizations. And offices inside of those organizations. And studio classes. And a senior recital. Then take away every single weekend with some obligation or another, make it so that getting out in four years is laughable, throw in the stupid hierarchy between instrumentalists and vocalists that never ceases to exist, and blend it all together with a healthy dose of seeing the same people day in and day out. People who are beautiful and talented and ambitious, but are worn just as thin as you.
What I think is the worst part is that it hurts me - actually hurts me - to see people so sick and tired - sick and tired of music, sick and tired of people and drama, sick and tired of God and "empty" promises. What keeps most people here is that, at the end of the day, they can't see themselves doing anything else, their entire life is poured out into music. And me? I can see myself doing other things, like writing or doing something (I'm not sure what) in the deepest part of a city somewhere. My entire life isn't poured out into music, it's poured into God. I don't want to sit in theory classrooms and locked into the percussion studio - I want to be outside singing praises and talking to people and being so loved that it spills over. And then there's the pride thing that keeps creeping up. In high school, I was the best. In college, everyone was the best. We're a big giant pool of the best. It's simultaneously glorious - have you ever just sat in the practice room hallway and listened the music pouring out? - and frustrating. I seem to find myself asking more and more lately whether I'm cut out for this, whether I've got the talent for this, whether anyone will want me to teach their children when I get done here. It terrifies me to answer those questions. And here next year, half of the percussion section is going to be going on to bigger and better things. I'm going to have an insane amount of leadership thrown on me, and although I've been working towards that from the get-go, I'm going to be a junior! I shouldn't have to be doing that yet!
But here's the thing. After all of that venting, there is still one thing that I can't shake. God used music to bring me here, and although part of me wonders if now that I'm here I'm supposed to be letting it go, the other part of me knows without a doubt that that isn't true. The other part of me knows that God is going to use music to do bigger and better and more adventurous things with me. The other part of me knows that God probably isn't ever going to stop using music to reach some purpose.
I learned last year that I can't rely on loving music or hating music to vouch whether or not I should study it. In marriage, some days you're going to wake up and love the handsome son-of-a-gun lying next to you, and other days, you're going to want to hit him with a skillet. But you still love him, and you're never going to leave him, and you know that, deep down. It's the same with music. Yes, I've learned that. This year, what I've continually fallen back on is the fact that, well, I am in love with these music people. They're beautiful, they're vibrant, they're dreamers, they're creators, they're characters in amazing stories. And if I leave... then I leave those people too. Oh sure, I'll still see them from time to time, but I wouldn't be sharing my day to day life with them. I remember a good friend saying during my first year that she had a dream that there was going to be this bright light streaming out of the Fine Arts building some day, but it was going to start with a few candles. I want to be a candle to these people. I want to bring them joy, I want to show them hope, I want to love them with a love that wouldn't be possible with God. And some of the people there are, seriously, my family. But they are so frustrating, and it feels like I am hitting my head against a wall over and over and over again. I'm, like, "God, why have you put them on my heart if I can't make any difference to them?!" I love my family there, and I know that they love me because they show it, but I want them to feel Love, to know God, to have their hopes changed. I want that so bad for them that it makes me groan.
There are two verses that have popped into my head probably a zillion times today, the day when it all seemed to reach a pinnacle. And yes, I know I posted the first one yesterday, blah blah blah, get over it.
"But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed." Habakkuk 2:3
"Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord, your labor is not in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:58There is such promise in those. That hope that my friend had that got planted in me last year - it will happen. It'll happen on God's timing and in ways that I can't understand, but it will happen. And the second one especially got me through the day, because the truth is, I'm not standing here beating my head against the wall. Even when it feels like I'm getting nowhere, there is progress being made. I'm doing this to glorify God, and He will be glorified. But in doing it His way, the glory will shine so much brighter. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain...
So... what I've decided from a good deal of reading and crying and praying and thinking today... is that I'm going to stay with music. I'm not done being used, and truthfully, I would miss it entirely too much if I left. It's part of who I am. I might take some sort of literature or composition class next semester to give myself a bit of a break, or maybe I'll just throw up short stories and poetry on here and save myself hundreds of dollars. Bahaha. I'm not sure. But the cry of my heart is to be used by God, and He wants to use me here, in the music department, in the Fine Arts building, studying percussion and loving the people around me. I know that now. And I know that He's not only going to change other people by keeping me here, but He's going to be changing me. I know that I might not always like that. And He knows that I might not always like it. He knows that today probably won't be the last time that I come to Him frustrated and about to give up. And that's okay. Because what He whispered into my heart, what encouragement He gave, what promises He told... He'll do it again. And again. I just have to keep running this race for Him, and Him only, and know that He smiles when I'm making music for Him.
Funny story, while I was teaching the second graders today, we all sat in a circle "Indian style", and the little girl on my left looks at me with eyes so full of excitement and says, "Teacher! You're wearing flip-flops!" I laugh and say that yes, I am. She grins and goes, "Mom told me that I couldn't wear flip-flops yet because it wouldn't be smart, but you're wearing them and you're Teacher so you must be smart. I'm going to tell Mom that I'm going to wear flip-flops tomorrow, " and then she crosses her arms and gives a defiant nod of her head.
I laughed.
Teaching music will be fun after all.
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