A Funny Irony

A few pictures I like before I tell my story.

Filling their Jerry cans at the village pump in the Eastern Province. Many homes have no running water. The clean water wells and pumps have been a huge blessing to the folks who depend on them for household water.

This is how Moms carry their little ones here.

Sometimes I feel God shaping my growth and development in all His painful precision.

Today was such a day. As some may realize, we are nearing the end of our mission. From the very beginning, almost two years ago, I have been giving music lessons. I use the Harman Grant to provide keyboards for students to use. When/if they finish the course and agree to conduct music, accompany for Sacrament Meeting and teach others music skills, they can apply to keep the keyboard for themselves.

I've had a few dozen students who have started with the conducting lessons. By the time we finish that course, we're down to two or three who are ready to learn to play the piano. After a few more weeks, usually all but one have dropped out. Learning to play the piano takes a lot more time and effort than they ever imagine at the beginning.

I have not had one single person qualify for the keyboard. . .yet. But I have two students now who are on track to receive a keyboard before I leave Rwanda.

Here's the irony. Today, Mateso Onesme, one of my students who started at the VERY beginning of music theory in the conducting class, played the prelude in Sacrament Meeting. He did beautifully. He's musically gifted, I believe, and he has practiced faithfully.

We attended the branch he's in specifically to hear him play. (We're assigned to 5 branches, so we rotate which meeting we attend.) I sat in the waiting congregation, grinning my pleasure and satisfaction. I murmured to Jeff, "I think this might be my proudest mission moment."

The man conducting the meeting came over to talk to Mateso and I could tell he was asking him to accompany in Sacrament meeting. I would agree that he's not quite ready for that, but I noticed them both looking at me. Next thing I know, Mateso comes and says that they are requesting that I come accompany!

Understand, dear reader, I can teach beginning piano. . .but playing in Sacrament meeting is another proposition. Since we moved 7 weeks ago, I've practiced very little because I don't have a suitable table or desk. I've accompanied a few times on my mission, but not enough that it doesn't terrify me. But how could I decline when Mateso had faced his fear and played prelude that very day? What message would I be sending? So seeing that the posted hymns were ones I have practiced, I agreed.

I went up to the keyboard and played through the first two hymns as prelude . Not too bad. My fingers weren't shaking, so that was promising.

But once the meeting started, they announced a different hymn. It was one I had never once practiced. I stumbled through, righthanding it adequately. Same trick with the Sacrament hymn. . .completely different and one I haven't practiced. I stumbled through with a sprinkling of mistakes.

But the closing hymn, I just bumbled and busted and played a highly hyphenated version of the song. Humiliations galore.

If only I hadn't claimed God's gift of music to Mateso as MY proud moment.

God had a clear voice, "YOUR proudest moment? What do you have to do with this miracle I have wrought? You don't even know how to play the piano!

No, no. God is our loving Heavenly Father. He loves me, too. I think He was really saying, "Remember how little musical talent you have? You can't play a few simple hymns all the way through when a little pressure is added. But LOOK at what I can make of your small offering. Look how I can take your offered crumbs and turn them into fat loaves!

One way or another, I feel both humbled by my own performance and joyful for the achievement of my student. He's my reward for trying and trying and trying to improve the quality of musical worship in Rwanda. It is enough.