Brief escape

A co-worker of mine is struggling with cancer and has been hospitalized intermittently. She spent the entire last week living in the oncology section of the hospital where I work. I visited her one day during my lunch break. Sitting with her, listening to the mixture of coughing, various machines beeping and an occasional squealing wheel on carts passing by, it reminded me how lonely it was to be in a hospital room, despite all the actions around us. My boss (an interventional neuroradiologist) once told me when we were discussing my volunteer work with Musicians On Call: "Music is one of those things that you don't realize how much you miss until you hear it. 4 o'clock in the afternoon, on the oncology floor, everybody's depressed--including the staff--but there is no powerful and quick solution...until something like music comes along."

Why I Play

I did a bit of self-reflection lately vis-a-vis music...and let's just say I went a little too far. Too far in the sense that I became unsure of what "good" I'm really doing with my music. As always, I kept my heart's turbulence inside.

In the meantime, a dear friend and fellow musician wrote the following. It did not "boost my ego"--if you read it closely and understand why he wrote it, you would not read it as common flattery either. This reminded me again of why I play.
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"A Musical Inspiration" - Jordan L. Rivera

There's an old saying that goes "a wise man hears one word, and understands two."

When I first read that, it caught me by surprise. I tried to think of how in the world it could be true. I hear one word, I get one word. Now I thought, maybe they the old proverb is talking about similes. You hear the word "beautiful" and think "beautiful" and "gorgeous".

I learned Sunday that’s not what it means. However, there is a twist. It wasn't words I heard, it was notes. The occasional Bb or, F #, maybe even an E. However, it wasn't just notes I heard. There was something more. Something attached to those notes. I heard words. With each note played, there was a word attached to it.

With each sweet melody there was a phrase, a statement that my soul needed to hear. It pierced through my heart into my most inner being. It was then that it became clear to me. You can hear 1 thing, but get 2.

I owe a great deal of thanks to someone for being the tool that God has called her to be. I don’t know much about her life, but I do know that, while the world told her one thing, God made another thing happen. When doctors told her she’d be weak, God still used her for his glory. She is a living testimony and verses like Psalm 118:14 (“The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.”) live through her.

I know the Lord is her song. I heard it on Sunday. She is the one who played those notes that had those words attached. Her story of strength was played into my ears in a way that I have never experience before. I learned so much about music in what seemed to me, a short 8 measures.

Yi-Ting Chiang, the strongest warrior I know, a person who exudes God’s grace. I know it’s Jesus’ who plays through her, and I hope one day, he’ll play through me.