Practice

November 3, 2015

"Practice Makes Perfect!" So goes the saying. "Not so," said John Maxwell, pastor and leadership speaker. "Practice Makes Permanent." That little correction popped into my head this evening as I was practicing my bassoon. Like most wind instruments, the scales follow a regular and mostly logical sequence. Unlike other wind instruments, the bassoon has a three octave range, and the highest octave's notes have no rhyme, reason, or pattern whatsoever. The fingerings jump all over the place and simply have to be memorized. An hour's repetition of a four-note sequence has so far resulted only in fouled-up fingerings and odd squawks and squeaks. I have about two weeks to get it right, so I keep working. I don't want to be the one to mess up the ensemble.

Life is often like that; you just keep going over and over the same thing till you get it right. We can settle for almost right, or give up entirely, but if we do, the work of the others in the ensemble is spoiled. They are working hard too, and are depending on me to do my part. None of us is in this business all by ourselves. The success of the whole depends on the success of the parts. Earlier today as I was putting the new lug nuts on Linda's car, I noticed the back rotors didn't look quite right, so I checked the brake pads. They were almost to the metal and had begun to score the surface of the rotors. We haven't had the car long enough to have worn much of the brake pads, so I know they were pretty well shot when we bought it. It passed inspection at the dealer, but it shouldn't have. Someone wasn't doing their job, and we were the ones to feel the repercussions. Off to Auto Zone for a new set of pads so I could finish the job. Anyone who has done brake work knows things aren't that simple, and after struggling for an hour to depress the piston so I could get the new pads installed, I had to concede defeat. I'll try again tomorrow, but may end up taking it to the professionals.

The quality and integrity of our work has consequences far beyond our own small circles. I am grateful tonight for those in my life who understood this and refused to cut corners. Instead, they kept at it till it was right. My parents did that; my pastor did it, teachers and professors refused to settle for almost right and refused to let me do it, either. I'll never be a virtuoso on the bassoon or any other instrument, for that matter. But I will continue to do my best because it's the right thing to do, and it's what gives honor to God. "Whatever you do...do it as unto Christ," the Scripture declares. That's what it says, and that's what I'll do.