Music Notes

Two little shrubs grow in our yard that have intriguing flowers. Clerodendrum incisum is an interesting plant whose flower buds resemble music notes before they open into pretty white clusters of white petals with red stamens. In fact, the flowers themselves remind me of herald trumpets, complete with visible music resounding from the bell of each horn. The first time my husband and I saw the music notes plant at a botanical garden, we knew we just had to get one. After all, we are musicians.

I have always loved music. When I was two years old, my mother claimed, I picked out the tune Happy Birthday on the piano. To be honest, I believe I was older than that, because I can remember doing it -- and I don't remember being two...We had a big old upright piano in our house that served as a focal point in the living room. Sometimes, we would put on puppet shows by draping a towel over the bench and hiding behind it. Then, sticking our hands above our heads, we would play with the puppets, using funny voices and making up a story as we went along. But usually, the piano was making music.

Of course, music didn't just emanate from the piano on its own. Often, it was my sister who played it. I can still hear, in my head, strains of Mozart's Piano Sonata 15 in C Major, Henry Mancini's Charade, and the music of the Beatles filling the room as she practiced difficult passages over and over again. When my brother-in-law joined the family, that piano came alive as he played Light My Fire, and other groovy songs. Sometimes it was my brother playing Moon River. And occasionally, my mom would sit down and practice What a Friend We Have in Jesus. 

I would sometimes pick out a tune, and I took piano lessons for about a year. I even performed in a recital at my teacher's house -- a little song called A Waltz for Judy. But then I started playing the flute. Here was something I could do that nobody else in the family did! Something different! I remember the excitement of that first day in band, when I learned how to play those first few notes. I quickly learned to play reasonably well, for a fourth grader, since I already knew how to read music. And as I got older and practiced more, and with a couple years of private lessons, my playing improved. I played in concert band, marching band, and jazz band. I even toured Europe with a group of musicians from across America. And among the boys in the band, I met my husband.

Music filled our apartment when a fussy baby wouldn't go to sleep. Music played in the kids' room at bed time, soothing little ones and covering up any outside noises that might prevent them from drifting off to dream. Attending and performing in concerts and ballets filled our lives with music. And over the years, my husband introduced thousands of students to the joy of music.

These days, most of my music making is for God. Singing in the church choir and playing my flute is my offering to the Lord, much like the gift of the little drummer boy in that beloved Christmas song. After all, He first gave the gift to me. And I hope that, in some small way, my music will glorify Him. Each day, I eagerly look for those pretty little flowers in my garden. And with a song in my heart, I thank God for music.

Praise the LORD!

Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens!

Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his excellent greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe!

Praise him with sounding cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!

Praise the LORD!

Psalm 150

(ESV)