Those who do it well make it look easy. That's true of any skill, whether it be hitting a golf ball, playing an instrument, or raising children. I'm absolutely no good whatsoever at hitting a golf ball. There is no perceivable correlation between my intention and where the ball lands, if indeed it ever even leaves the tee. I'm getting better at my instrument. I've learned the notes of the bass clef, know where on the fretboard they fall, but have a great deal of difficulty getting my fingers to do what I see with my eyes. I'm either on the wrong string with one or the other, or both of my hands, and as often as not, I'm on the wrong fret.
At jazz band today, the student conductors introduced two new pieces, one slow, the other stepping right along with a steady bass beat. No one else is doing what I'm supposed to be doing, so when (not if) I get lost, I'm really lost, especially if I don't know the melody. There's nothing in the steady thrum, thrum, thrum of the bass beat to tell me where the rest of the band is. By the time I figure it out, they could be having coffee break! If that weren't enough, my sheet music had a musical notation I didn't recognize, but which I suspected meant I'm supposed to improvise. Checking with my student instructor the next hour confirmed my suspicion. It's hard to improvise when you have haven't mastered the basics and have no idea what you're doing. Improvisation is for those who are actually good at what they do.
All of which is a pretty good picture of life, and which brings me to the last of the three illustrations with which I started: raising children. I see a lot of people who are trying to improvise when they don't even know their scales. Music, even jazz, is very precise. There is rhythm, melody, harmony, all of which need to work together at the right time if the resulting performance is to be anything more than a cacophony of noise; "sound and fury, signifying nothing," as Shakespeare said.
I may be a duffer at golf, an enthusiastic novice at the bass, but in God's grace, I've learned some things about raising children. If you've heard some of the stories of our boys, it may surprise you to know that people actually used to tell us how lucky we were to have such good children. I always replied that luck had nothing to do with it; it was a lot of hard work and plenty of grace. The basics are pretty simple, just like do re mi in music: self-discipline, honesty, respect. We had a clear picture of the goal: the end product of a productive young man or woman who lives with integrity, kindness, and conviction; who knows what it means to be faithful, persistent, and strong. As with any life skill, it looks easy to those who know nothing about it. Few things worth doing come easily. Raising good kids is one of those things worth doing, and doing well. It's never easy.
Some skills seem to run in family lines. Mozart was the child of professional musicians. The Petty racing dynasty at one time spanned four generations. I am grateful that Linda and I had the example of parents who did it well, that we were able to build on their foundations, and that we didn't give in to the easy road or give up when it got hard, because the reward for all that hard work is grown children who bless us, and grandchildren who are in a sense, icing on the cake of life. I constantly pray for those who don't have that earthly family heritage, that their heritage in Christ as children of God will take precedence over their earthly heritage. The Scripture says that those who trust in Christ are given new life, made heirs, and given all that is necessary for life and godliness. For those who are as spiritually klutzy as I tend to be, it doesn't come easily, any more than my playing the bass. But with diligent practice, even the most inept can learn because God is not only the Teacher, but the Holy Spirit he gives us is the music itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment