The Music that Moves Us

I had turned a radio station on while doing my work. Actually, I had the music cranked up pretty loud since I was by myself.

I am a classical music junkie. The symphony playing had featured the flutes, which I happen to play.

My mind and essence transported back to a day when I sat in my high school band. I can't tell you how many of us participated any more, but it was the concert band with members chosen from the 3000 students attending the school.

Sitting in my chair and sharing a music stand with the flute player next to me, gave us a unique vantage to the sound. I have never heard music in the same way as I did then.

In the auditorium sound floats to the ceilings and swirls down to the audience, enveloping them with a blend of storytelling sounds.

But on stage, the players are inside the sound. We feel the vibrations, the crystal sounds, the booms, the shrills, and growls. Air moves from us, even the drummers, into our instruments. Have you see the performers move as they play? Yes. He or she is feeling the music. Enraptured. Transported into the sound.

What a difference. I hope you have experienced music.

Then I thought about my time with God. There are times when the Bible is opened and words are read. They swirl into my mind and soul and touch me. I love those moments.

But better yet...are the times when I am more than the receiver. I am participating with God the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. I read the words and am spurred to read more. I look at resources, I dig deeper. I ask questions and keep asking. The Holy Spirit directs me to new passages, music, words from friends, scholars. I am so engaged in the activity that I don't hear the phone ring. These are the moments that enrapture me. Transported into the thought.

Reader, are there triggers that cause you to fully engage in something? What works for you? If you don't have an answer, please take the time to say howdie do. We love to chat here.

This post has been brought to you by the one word: Enraptured

Suzanne Woods Fisher - Overcoming the Fear of Failure

We've all had something fail. Maybe a school assignment, baking a cake, changing a car tire. Well that was my shortlist confession. There really is a mile long list that you don't want to hear. Talk about a quick drive to the blues. Even one negative comment in a barrel full of praises can take us down. Sigh. Why oh why do we remember the one negative one and forget the positives. You are not alone. We all do this. But there is a way of escape. Today, Suzanne Woods Fisher is going to share her story. The Fear of Failure “For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you. Do not fear; I will help you” (Isaiah 41:13, niv). Years ago, before I received my first book contract, an editor returned a manuscript to me with the comment that the writing wasn’t up to her publishing house’s “caliber.” Ouch! That was a tough remark to swal...

A Memory Device For You

Photo Courtesy Recently I added a memory game to my week's activities. It all started when I listened to one of those fabulous sermons in church and actually took notes. Later in the week, I recalled liking the sermon and searched for the notes, but lamented when I couldn't find the piece of paper. I quizzed myself: What was the general topic? I racked my brain…good grief this was Thursday and a thousand other things had happened when I asked the question. After a cup of tea, visualizing where I sat in the sanctuary, and using every other means possible to remember the general topic I finally answered the question. The process to recall the rest of the good things said was an epic fail. Although I have since started using a notebook I have created a memory game. On Monday, at any point during the day, I try to say the following without the use of my notes: General topic of the sermon Main book of the Bible used Application p...

Laughter and Singing at the Homeless Shelter

It was a night to remember. A night to tell friends about. So I am... Fifty men, women, and teens rode in busses on icy expressways into the inner city. They poured out of the bus at a homeless shelter unsure where to go, what to do, or what to say. One led the pack through the main doors, pass security checkpoints, and on through winding hallways to a large room. At night, this room is filled, wall to wall, with cots, blankets, and at this time of year, cold homeless men, women, and children. On this evening before the night, hundreds of chairs formed straight rows and faced a platform. The fifty set up sound and instrument equipment. Singers cozied in the limited platform space. Instrumentalists tuned their instruments. A few residents poked their heads in the door. Intrigued, they came in and watched the first measures of several songs start, stop, start again. Microphone levels adjusted. The singers laughed. Chattered. The group stepped off to the side and...

The Storyteller | Mary Vee

Search This Blog