God's Perfect Plan

In sorting through some boxes of music recently, my mom discovered a song that someone had written for me when I was born. We have been unable to unravel the mystery of who wrote it, but one phrase that was repeated through the song struck me.

"God has a plan for you."

When I was born, my parents decided that I should be an organist. You see, I was born on J.S. Bach's birthday, and had long spindly fingers and restless feet. My parents started my brother and I with piano lessons when I was about 8, and no matter how I complained and pleaded to quit, they would not let me give up. When I was about 13, I switched to a different teacher, who helped me to play well enough that I actually enjoyed playing. After about two years of lessons with her, she suggested that I begin teacher training. Now, I had long thought that I would like to teach, and when my mom came home from meeting with my teacher and told me her suggestion, it was as if a light dawned and I suddenly realized that teaching was what I was supposed to do, even though it had not been part of my plans.

After I had been teaching for several years, God reminded me of one of His plans for me that I had resisted for many years. My parents had gotten the idea "somewhere" that I was going to be a church pianist (playing for church services, choir practices, etc.) The church we were in did not present many opportunities for this, and I was surprised when Daddy started telling people that I was going to be a church pianist. This was also not in my plans, and I protested that I was a teacher, not an accompanist.

Then, God's plan moved my family to our present church, and soon after we settled there I was put on the offertory schedule. From there, I learned how to play for congregational singing, and now am not only playing for congregational on Wednesday nights, but I am also accompanying the teen choir!

Then, two years ago, God once again reminded me of another long-resisted plan. In talking with a friend at church, the subject of the organ came up, and my friend asked if I had ever considered playing the organ. Just as when I realized that God wanted me to teach, it seemed as if a light had dawned, and I suddenly thought that yes, I could do that! We "happened" to have a small organ in our house, and my piano teacher "happened" to have majored in organ at college. The church I was teaching at had a beautiful organ that I was allowed to practice on for hours on end, and soon I played for church for the first time.

Then our church's organ died, and through that God provided a beautiful new Rodgers organ --but our primary organist had moved away, so now I find myself playing the organ every Sunday --just as God had planned before I was even born!

The Day My Daddy Saved My Life...

It was a chilly winter day, and a clear, thick coating of ice covered everything in sight. I was standing on the front porch, looking a little anxiously at the slippery steps. --I was never the type of child who enjoyed dangerous things, unlike my brother, who that moment commanded my attention by whooping delightedly while taking a running start at the giant slide that was our steep driveway. As I watched him shoot down surfer-style towards the street, I could not help but wonder how he could not be afraid of falling.

Daddy came out of the house just then, bearing two trekking poles. He offered one to me, and kept the other for himself, since my brother had loudly proclaimed that he neither wanted nor needed one.

So, off we set down the icy sidewalk. I don't remember now where we were going that day, but there were only a handful of places we liked to walk to when there was snow or ice, and from the little bit I remember, it seems to me that we must have been headed to the harp shop.

We made our way down the glazed sidewalk of the busy street, with cars zooming by in what seemed to me a most reckless fashion. Daddy and I slid a little once or twice, but otherwise our trip to the store was uneventful. On the way home, however, we had to hurry to cross a busy street (trying not to fall over in the process). In that particular part of the city the "wheelchair ramps" for the crosswalks were abnormally steep, and as I stepped onto the curb I lost my footing and fell, sliding rapidly toward the line of traffic zooming past! Thankfully, Daddy had his trekking pole, which he drove into the ice by my hand just in time for me to catch it, saving me from almost certain death. (Or so it seemed to me.)

My brother still can't figure out how I managed to fall...

Pretending

Maura, this one's for you. --an episode from our childhood. : )


Once upon a time, three young girls walked along a wooded path, pretending. They walked quickly, for they were imagining that they were sisters, on the run from the wicked schoolteacher and his wife, who had persuaded the orphanage they had been left at a month before to give them custody of the three young girls, who were orphaned when their parents died tragically, --though none of the girls had decided yet what the cause of their tragic fate had been. The schoolteacher and his wife only wanted the girls because they had inherited a large mansion, and lots of money, so of course the poor sisters were sadly mistreated, forced to be servants to the terrible couple, until that fateful morning.

They had escaped the house early, before anyone was up, taking with them a small bag of provisions, which they had snatched from the kitchen on their way out of the house. As they walked, they discussed what they were to do, now that they had escaped from their dreadful guardians. The oldest, Rose, led the way through the forest, looking for some shelter where they could hide. All sorts of dangers lurked in the shadows of the forest, and it was as the girls were discussing which of those dangers they were to encounter on their journey, when something unexpected happened.

Rose was forging bravely ahead, saying, “Be careful, girls, and make sure you keep close. There are bears in these woods,” when, all of a sudden, with a great and terrifying roar, something came crashing through the woods towards them! The three young girls, being young girls, screamed loudly and ran as fast as they could. One fell over, and as the others stopped to help her up, they looked up and saw what it was that had been chasing them.

Shocked out of character, and rather upset, the three girls turned, and saw the familiar friendly face of the man they had taken for a bear, who looked somewhat embarrassed and very amused. He explained that he had thought they were trespassers, and decided to teach them a lesson by scaring them.

~And so ended the saga of the three sister’s daring and dangerous escape.