The End of my Piano Perfectionism
A worn-out, scratched-up wooden piano sat abandoned in the corner, like it had been pushed aside or left over from a garage sale. I tenderly opened up the lid, let my fingers rest on the yellow stained keys, and purposefully chose a song in my head. I placed my right hand on the high-pitched end of the piano, with my thumb resting on one A and my pinky barely reaching the next A an octave higher. As soon as I hit that octave to begin the delicate, peaceful song, I winced as the notes clashed so horrifically that I couldn't bring myself to hit the next note. Realizing that the piano had not been tuned in a century (or so it seemed), I quickly thought to myself, new song! This will never work! So I went to plan B, a jazz piece that dances around the lower octaves of the piano. I quietly and quickly tested the lower end of the piano, which was still not in-tune, but at least bareable. The plan B jazz song had a few higher chords that sqeaked with dissonance when I struck them, causing me to grit my teeth just a little bit.
However, my small audience didn't seem to mind. That's because six or seven 80 and 90 year old women had gathered around an old table in a nursing home just to hear me play. They nodded their heads, closed their eyes, and bobbed in beat to the music. When I finished my first piece, they applauded and asked for more. I don't think they noticed the clashing notes or mistakes that I made; they just loved the music.
After I ran out of songs that I could play off the top of my head, I opened up my personal music notebook, which is filled with single-sheet worship songs. Soon, the back room of hall 9 at the Searcy Healthcare and Rehabilitation Center was filled with praises to the Lord. I played and sang my favorite worship songs for an audience of beautiful elderly women who are precious in the eyes of the Lord. My favorite moment of the afternoon was when one little old woman with dimensia recognized the hymn I was playing. "Is that 'How Great Thou Art?'" she shouted. "Play us 'I'll Fly Away' because we love that one!" I made a mental note to print that sheet music out as soon as I got back to the dorm.
The pianist part of me would have closed the lid to that old piano as soon as I struck the first octave. The perfectionist/performer side of my personality would have plugged my ears and cried at the sound of the dissonant chords. However, the sound of the elderly women singing along to "How Great Thou Art" in a nursing home kept me going. The more I sang praises to the Lord, the more I forgot about the clashing chords. In fact, my "fine-tuned ear" died away and I failed to notice the imperfections. My sweet, simple, appreciative audience helped me to play with my heart.
Sometimes we let our imperfections keep us from singing a sweet song to the Lord. We feel out-of-tune, so we abandon the song. But let's lay aside our perfectionism and our need to perform. Instead, let's look at our audience of one. See Him close His eyes and bob His head to the beat of the music. To Him, the song of praise that you sing is beautiful.
However, my small audience didn't seem to mind. That's because six or seven 80 and 90 year old women had gathered around an old table in a nursing home just to hear me play. They nodded their heads, closed their eyes, and bobbed in beat to the music. When I finished my first piece, they applauded and asked for more. I don't think they noticed the clashing notes or mistakes that I made; they just loved the music.
After I ran out of songs that I could play off the top of my head, I opened up my personal music notebook, which is filled with single-sheet worship songs. Soon, the back room of hall 9 at the Searcy Healthcare and Rehabilitation Center was filled with praises to the Lord. I played and sang my favorite worship songs for an audience of beautiful elderly women who are precious in the eyes of the Lord. My favorite moment of the afternoon was when one little old woman with dimensia recognized the hymn I was playing. "Is that 'How Great Thou Art?'" she shouted. "Play us 'I'll Fly Away' because we love that one!" I made a mental note to print that sheet music out as soon as I got back to the dorm.
The pianist part of me would have closed the lid to that old piano as soon as I struck the first octave. The perfectionist/performer side of my personality would have plugged my ears and cried at the sound of the dissonant chords. However, the sound of the elderly women singing along to "How Great Thou Art" in a nursing home kept me going. The more I sang praises to the Lord, the more I forgot about the clashing chords. In fact, my "fine-tuned ear" died away and I failed to notice the imperfections. My sweet, simple, appreciative audience helped me to play with my heart.
Sometimes we let our imperfections keep us from singing a sweet song to the Lord. We feel out-of-tune, so we abandon the song. But let's lay aside our perfectionism and our need to perform. Instead, let's look at our audience of one. See Him close His eyes and bob His head to the beat of the music. To Him, the song of praise that you sing is beautiful.
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