For those of you who know me pretty well or have known me for quite a while, you probably know that I grew up inundated with music. Everything I lived and breathed from a very young age was music, as my parents were “in the business” and it just seemed like the natural thing for their kids to do.
When I was four, I started playing the organ -- group lessons through YEC, a Yamaha method. I didn’t realize it, but I was absorbing so much more than notes and theory. Shortly after I began lessons, I was wandering through my parents’ music store one afternoon, and walked by as an employee was tuning a piano. I said, “That’s an A!” and kept walking. He (John) called me back and quickly discovered that I had perfect pitch and could pick out notes just by hearing them. Soon after that, my parents would begin quizzing me on doorbells, car horns, songs on the radio, etc.
I think I reached “the end” of lessons when I was about 11 or so before my parents needed to make a decision. It was either I continue independent lessons with someone in the Minneapolis area (about four hours away at the time) at an advanced level, or move to piano. And so, piano it was -- I took lessons until graduating from high school. My teacher was also the minister of music at the church we would attend, so I did a lot of playing for her, entered competitions, and entertained at restaurants in the area -- but very begrudgingly.
I always knew I had “a gift.” -- definitely a gift from God. I could sight-read pretty well, and although I would practice daily before getting on the school bus, I could also play my way through anything. Music has always come really very easy for me, but it’s also been an area in my life that I’ve been borderline embarrassed about, too. When my dad would be trying to sell a piano or an organ and I was at the store, he would call me in to play -- to show them what lessons, hard work, and diligence can accomplish. I would play in recitals, fair booths, weddings, etc. However, it was always very difficult for me to be on stage, playing alone. Singing in a choir or playing french horn or trumpet was nothing -- but that’s because all eyes weren’t on me. The thought of all the attention being centered on me was overwhelming. Somewhere along the line, being humble brought feelings of absolute humility and embarrassment for this gift.
When I went off to college I considered music therapy as a career, but I really wanted nothing to do with anything music-related. I just felt “expected” to pursue music. I would play for weddings when I was begged, accompany or sing when I was needed, but other than that I did my best to steer clear of anything musical and settled on a teaching degree instead. I recognized that I wasn’t using my gift and would probably go as far to say I was even wasting it, but I never felt comfortable sharing it. I struggled with guilt at times. There were so many people around who wanted the opportunity to play, to learn, to possess the gift of music, yet I was the one possessing it and not using it. Doing nothing with it.
I could go on and on about the times I was disobedient, prideful, etc. -- all of those times I didn’t want to use my music because somehow I thought it was all about me. However, I really felt as though once we got to Africa this all would change. I was given a foreshadowing that very possibly I’d be asked to play in the HPC-Swaziland worship band from time to time on keys, so I was prepared. I also think I was ready and willing -- more than I have ever been in my life. I really had to get over myself, that I have a great gift, and this gift brings glory to Him -- only Him. This has nothing to do with me. I was prepared for this -- all of those scales, arpeggios, dreaded theory lessons, and hammering on the keys has lead me to being a keyboard-playing missionary in Swaziland, and having a gift to share. Granted, I’m still the same Krista that dreads the spotlight, but I’m not in it. He is. And, if people are worshipping the way that they should, they will have tuned me out and shouldn’t hear much of me anyway. :)
It comes down to this -- I’m completely in awe of Him. That those feelings of uncertainty, nervousness, and being “spotlighted” are quickly starting to fade due to His works in me, undeserving me. I’m learning that, after forty long years, it’s not about me. This gift of music He has given to me, but it’s essentially the parable of the talents. I probably shouldn’t bury it or hoard it. It doesn’t matter how much I have or haven’t been given -- it’s how I put it to use and essential that I do put it to use. God expects ME to make the most of what He has given ME. He has entrusted me with it, so it’s my responsibility to use it and to bring glory to Him. I’m just so sorry that it’s taken me so long to figure this out.
“We are to cultivate our gifts and abilities, keep our hearts aflame, grow our character and personality and broaden our experiences so we will be increasingly more effective in our service.” -Rick Warren
What a visual -- a heart aflame for Him, using all I am and all I have for Him. I want that.
So, forgive me for hoarding my music, forgive my pride and all of this yucky stuff. Forgive me if you ever wanted a concert in the past and I didn’t deliver (including you, Steph!). We had always heard that God would work with us in Africa on things that He could never work out while we were in the States. I can attest to that -- I’m feeling it. But it’s a great thing -- especially if it means more of Him and less of me, and even if it means me being stretched with some ivories under my fingers.
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