Quirky



I’m a musician, and after sitting under countless music directors, I’ve come to the conclusion that most choral directors (myself included) are quirky. The music we try to create often has greater mystery and beauty to us than to those we endeavor to create it with, therefore we coach, cajole, plead, demand, and sigh… a lot.

One director I studied under varied in his quirkiness by either hilarious flashes of humor, or sudden outbursts of temper. Another used humor to keep the rehearsal moving along, and then in the middle of directing a piece would begin to focus his eyes up and to the left… just above the heads of the choir. We often wondered what he saw over there during anthems. I sat under one director’s leadership for just a short two seasons, as his quirk was to berate the choir repeatedly… not much fun. A director I loved singing under had the most beautiful presence before the choir. He simply exuded artistry and confidence. All were great musicians, and all got amazing results from their choirs.

The evening after our return from Turkey, I began rehearsals with 40+ singers from several area churches to prepare a Christmas Concert for Reformed Theological Seminary. I spent several months choosing the music, and think we’ll have a great program, but rehearsing challenging music with a volunteer choir is challenging in itself, and I’ve experienced my quirkiness coming forth in rehearsals more and more as we draw near the performance date.

I long for the singers to truly experience the wonder of singing something truly beautiful with skill and artistry. I’ve been encouraged by their efforts, and think we might just pull it off. As a singer, one can truly be transported when the voices finally blend with beauty, breath, and articulation—it can be quite stirring personally, something I hope that this group will be able to experience in this program. However, not all of the music is easy…there are a couple of challenge pieces that need greater study by the singers and better direction from me.

Hence the quirk. I’m a little nervous about these two pieces, and I find myself searching for analogies and metaphors that will somehow speak to those in the group that aren’t quite ‘feeling it’… and often resort to humor, followed by pleading and cajoling. Humor is a huge part of my life, and springs forth from my mouth often unbidden, which can be a bit unsettling to those not so given to mirth. Sometimes I sense the whole choir is with me in my joviality, but often my eye strays to that person or two who thinks I might need medication. Viva la difference! To me that is what makes this community effort so rich. God has brought a diverse group of quirky people together to create wonderful music to His glory. Using all of us at our varied levels of skill to strive together toward the goal of creating an exciting concert.

We have three rehearsals left… please Lord, let us sing with beauty, passion, skill, and artistry. In the meantime, may we enjoy the quirkiness of one another.

Re-entry, Work, and Dreams




Back to work. Not much time for rest or recovery from jet lag. We got up bright and early Monday morning and headed off to school and work (except for Don, who had the luxury of one day off left.) The first day was not too bad—I guess it was still the exhilaration of our experience that was still coursing through our veins… but the next day… oh my. Not good.

Tired child, tired parents, and way too much work to do. We stumbled through the next week just trying to be patient with one another and not say or do anything we might regret for too long. Marla came down with a serious cold about 4 days after our return and went from tired and crabby to tired, sick and crabby. On Saturday afternoon, she and her Dad were standing in the kitchen and she was begging for some goodie out of the pantry… Dad was doing his best to ignore her entreats and finally snapped. “Marla,” he said. “It’s not going to happen. You cannot have it.” Normally our little girl is relatively compliant and can be rerouted if one is clever, but this day she’d had it. Tired, Sick, and Crabby kicked in. Putting her hands on her hips, feet akimbo, and scowling her most ferocious scowl, she looked straight at her Dad and said, “I’m going to turn you into a different color!” Then stalked off to her room.

Wow… a different color. That’s pretty harsh! Fortunately she hasn’t figured out how to pull it off, although I do take a quick look at Don when I get home from work most days, just to be sure.

The next four weeks passed rather blurrily, with the fatigue slowly receding. I can hardly believe we’ve been home a month. The images from our trip keep replaying in my mind, and the faces of the people we met and care for are still vivid. I’ve been keeping up with the few who speak English via email, and keep the others before me in pictures so that I might pray for them when I see them. Please Lord, let us return to see these dear people again. Until then, we’ll work at our jobs, go to school, and love those the Lord has given us to love here at home.

Speaking of those at home, we’re gathering together as a Missions team in two weeks for a Turkish meal. It will be so much fun to be together, reminisce, look at pictures, and eat great food. The only thing that would make it even more fun would be if our brothers and sisters from the church in Alabama could join us. We’ll certainly be thinking of them as we give thanks.

Until then, it’s work as usual. Teaching Middle and High School music and church work for me, Firefighting for Don, and School for Marla will fill our days and evenings. Add to that the schedules of our two grown sons, Daniel and Sam, and there is very little down time. The cool thing is, we feel slightly Turkish now. The music of the country plays in our home, and as we go to sleep each night, the demands of the week play through our minds underscored by hauntingly beautiful melodies, visions of golden mountains, exotic cities, the ruins of Greek and Roman civilizations where the apostle Paul took the Gospel, Christian Symbols carved into the marble streets and columns, and the faces of those we fell in love with while there.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

I’ve always enjoyed flying,… until I took my first international flight. I’m a very positive person, but long flights turn me into a Whiner. Remember the old Saturday Night Live skit? That’s me on the return flight from Turkey. Flying really long distances is just not fun. Legs cramp. Ankles swell. You can’t get comfortable. The seats don’t quite recline enough… I’m getting whiney just writing about it. Thank heaven for in-flight movies, snacks, beverages, and stewardesses who help with small comforts, and put up with whiners like me. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all fly first class? There’s a lot of room up there!

The flight over to Turkey was long, and we hit the ground running. The flight back to JFK felt like it was twice as long, and then the connection to Orlando seemed to take an eternity. It’s funny how fatigue can change your perspective. We departed Istanbul about 12:30 pm (remember that Istanbul is 7 hours ahead of us) and landed in New York at 2:30 Eastern Standard time. Then we sat in the JFK terminal until 7:30 pm, and on the runway until 8:30. Our plane finally landed at 11:30 pm. Grand total: 20 hours of travel. I needed to be at work at 8:30 the next morning to start catching up on things. Knowing that my whining would probably irritate those seated near me, I concentrated on whining internally. Miserable—that was me.

Hitching a ride home from the airport with Joe and Rita, we arrived home about 12:30, hugged our Sam, and settled our over-tired child into bed. She was glad to be home, and was thrilled to be under her soft covers.

I decided to unwind with a hot bath and then made it to bed around 2:30. Lying in bed, I could still feel the soaring movement of the airplane beneath me and visions of the last 10 days played in my head while I waited for sleep. What a trip! What an amazing opportunity! What marvelous people! Thank you Lord. I wasn’t feeling whiney anymore. I was feeling joyful, peaceful, and very grateful.

Here are a few of the things I smiled over as I drifted off to sleep.



Arriving at the Hotel SABA-- our first day in Istanbul.

























Marla and Don... his face says it all!




















Reggie and Randy at the Hagia Sofia.






















Lynne, Leah, and Mary Beth with a Cappadocian woman selling scarves.








Don, Marla, and me in Cappadocia.










Don and Lynne












These ladies are the real thing!




















Delightful Dan.













Leah at Pergamum.










The Thinker...












Marla having a magnificent time!













Don and I














Mary Beth and Sam











Invisible Swordplay













Ahu and Marla














Gina



















Joe and Rita














Life immitates art...