A few weeks ago my husband took me to the symphony. The man knows how music feeds my soul. He’s good to me.
That night we were to hear a whole lot from Mozart, a French horn concerto by Rosetti, and a cello concerto by Boccherini.
They had me at cello (get it? See what I did there?).
I love Mozart. I do. And these pieces were bouncy, delightful. I couldn’t help but smile all through his pieces. The Rossetti piece was also lovely, the French horns were flawless, soulful.
But it was the Boccherini concerto for cello. That was the winner of the night.
The cello soloist (Daniel Hass) stepped onto the stage carrying his cello like it was just another part of him. He wasn’t awkward in carrying it like I would be. It was as if lugging around an instrument that was half his height and double his width was the most natural thing in all the world.
He was young. Like, half-my-age young. The age of my nephew young.
He played to perfection. He held back nothing, putting in all his power and emotion and energy. He played as if his whole life were leading to him playing that music for that audience on that night.
He gave us a gift.
I wanted to jump up on that stage and grab his 19 year old face into my hands. I wanted to look him in the eye and say, “You are a rare gift to the world. Don’t squander this.”
But I didn’t want to be 1. creepy, or 2. kicked out of the symphony.
Thank goodness for having learned restraint.
Since that night I’ve been thinking a whole lot about rare gifts. Among us are painters and teachers and writers and accountants. There be gardeners and cooks and housekeepers and singers. Those who are natural hosts and encouragers and jokesters.
We are a varied bunch, humans.
And I think of what we offer as if our whole lives were leading up to this moment, this day, this happening.
We give each other gifts when we smile or help out or write a poem.
I want to take your hands in mine and look you right in the eye and tell you, “You are a rare gift to the world. Don’t squander this”.
You are a gift. Give freely and with much love.
You are a gift.
Apparently I need to hear this because it’s EVERYWHERE I look right now–here, my Bible study, and even church on Sunday. Yesterday, our pastor pointed out that scripture says every believer has a supernatural superpower. But, like Spiderman, with great power, comes great responsibility. I’m trying to figure out priorities and feeling like what I have to offer isn’t so very cool or necessary. But after the third mention, I’m beginning to think God’s telling me to keep moving. That it’s necessary to his kingdom. Now I’m going to clean bathrooms and get back to writing!
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Janyre, take it from me, you’re a gift. No joke. I so appreciate your talent, your kindness, your ability to get people together. You do make a difference in this world! So many people benefit from what you have to offer…your writing (on your blog, in the book that we’ll read one day soon, on the Breathe blog), your smile which you are so willing to share, your friendship which is open and warm.
I’m thankful for you!
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Needed reminder.
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Suann, I think we all need this reminder now and then.
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Such encouraging words, Susie. For the longest time, I really wanted a sparkly, loud gift. You know, I wanted to be really good at something that stood out. It’s never happened for me that way, but I’m learning to be okay with it. Maybe my gifts are quieter. My co-worker said (not to me, but I accidentally overheard it) the other day that I give “the best” compliments. I honestly wasn’t and still am not sure exactly what she means specifically, but I did appreciate it.
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Oh! Maybe she means that you have the gift of encouragement which is such an important gift! I can’t tell you how many times a kind word has gotten me through tough patches. That is a HUGE gift!
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