Ever since I was a small girl, Sunday mornings meant a house filled with music. My mom turned on Music and the Spoken Word, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's weekly broadcast, early each Sunday, and I woke up to that music. I listened to it as I got dressed for church, and something stuck. Eventually, my mom took me to see that broadcast in person. It awoke in me a passion for beautiful spiritual music and a desire to share that passion with others.
As I grew up, I filled my Sunday mornings with sacred music. I filled my life with sacred music, singing it in choirs, congregations, and performing with various choral groups. It elevates the soul and rejuvenates the spirit. It became my safe haven during storms.
I sang all the way through college, but I suddenly stopped after coming home from my mission. There wasn't time in my "busy" schedule to sing in an organized group. I was working full time, going to school full time, and managing a hectic family life. However, after my divorce, I found a small choral group in Salt Lake City, UT, and started singing again. This tight-knit group often wrote their own arrangements, composed new music, and had been together for decades. I felt horribly underqualified to join them, but they were impressed by my mechanics, my dedication, and my love for music. I adored singing with that special group.
As I have moved back and forth over the last five years, I haven't been settled anywhere long enough or been healthy long enough to really participate actively in music. But I still listen, and I still sing.
This morning, as my mother did for decades, I turned on Music and the Spoken Word. The Choir sang some stirring arrangements of traditional hymns, and while I enjoyed it, I didn't have that feeling. After about 20 minutes, Lloyd Newell, the narrator, began talking about strength and faith. He said that we can choose how we use our emotional energy during life's storms. We can choose to be distraught, frustrated, angry, and give up, or we can choose to be strong, brave, and live with faith. We can choose to continue living in the midst of life's storms. Living, really living, during life's storms is a sign of strength. And it's a choice.
As I listened to his message, I realized that I do not always choose to be strong. Sometimes I want to shrink from my challenges and be "normal." I don't want to be the person who has been through SO MUCH and can be such a great example to others. (That's what my husband tells me.) I just want to be that girl listening to music on Sunday mornings. But his message helped me see that I am that girl. I can choose to accept that role and the challenges that make me better and stronger or I can choose to "kick against the pricks (Acts 9:5)," harming my own learning and growth.
Pricks always remind me of goatheads.
Pricks are thorny spurs that farmers during New Testament times used to keep their herds together. If an animal started to stray, the shepherd prodded him with the prick to remind him to stay with the other animals. Some animals didn't like this reminder, so they kicked. When they kicked, that prick would give them a jab, and it hurt.
Goatheads are thorny little spurs, and they're usually found in fields, abandoned lots, and other places children like to roam. They were all over my grandparents' yard and on the sidewalks. As kids, we hated shoes and would walk around barefoot. Inevitably, we would find a goathead with our little feet, and because we didn't have shoes, it rammed right through the skin and lodged itself deep into the souls of our feet. My Grandma, being a nurse, cleared off the kitchen table, set up her "operating room," and pulled those goatheads from our feet. She would then remind us that if we took the time to put on shoes before going outside to play, we wouldn't get these awful thorns in our feet. My little sister didn't listen after her first experience and got a goathead stuck in her foot that went in so deep, the thorn couldn't be pulled out on Grandma's operating kitchen table with tweezers or a sewing needle. Grandma told my sister that she would have to let it work its way out, a slow, painful process.
We are often like my sister and I were. When proverbial goatheads come our way in life, we forget to use the safeguards available to us to help us avoid the painful, festering thorns. We walk out barefoot and think that we can be strong on our own. And we get spurs that are so deep that we can't get them out alone.
After Lloyd Newell introduced me to the idea that strength is a choice, the choir sang one of my favorite songs - Brazzle Dazzle Day from Pete's Dragon. Watch it here. Pete faced a storm, but his dragon friend Elliott helped him see every day as a brazzle dazzle day - an opportunity to take on new challenges and find joy in everyday living. He then met others who helped him overcome the obstacles he faced, find a home, and enjoy the blessings of family.
Finding joy in each day gives us additional strength to weather the storm. We can use any and all resources available to help us weather the storm. They range from a trusted confidant to learning new skills to getting professional and or medical help. We can't be strong alone, and life isn't meant to be that way. If we reach out to others like Pete did, we'll have the resources necessary to endure difficult times and find joy so that every day is a brazzle dazzle day
I love you! ❤️
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