Perspective & Purposefulness

It has been a little while since I last blogged. I had some posts drafted {meaning, they were waiting to be finished and posted} that were titled "Christmas 2013 Wish List - a.k.a. 'Ty's Reminders'" and "Last Minute Gift Ideas." I'd been compiling these lists for a few days, trying to get them finished before Christmas.

Then Monday, December 16th, 2013 happened.

One of the hardest, most heartbreaking days I've ever had to experience. A student of mine left this earth. He was far too young. He led a life seemingly full of beauty and promise. He was a student, classmate, friend, brother, and son who made a decision that ultimately affected all those who loved him and will miss him every day for the rest of their lives.

Having to tell the horrific news to a classroom full of unsuspecting students and dealing with their outpouring of emotions and questions that followed was the hardest thing I've ever done. I, myself, was speechless, shocked, and left heartbroken by what I had heard. How could I possibly offer any comfort in these precious children's times of need?

I thank the loving and wonderful Lord that He heard my prayer that day: "Help me be strong. Help me know what to say. Help me."

That day ended and another day almost as difficult began. An empty choir room in the early morning hours proved to be my refuge after a night of little sleep. It felt good to be in a place where joyful music had once been made, only two days before, in the rehearsal leading up to our Christmas program. A place where Michael stood, singing songs, laughing with friends. 

I walked over to the shelf and found his folder, number 39, placed in between his older brother's and younger sister's. His music put neatly in order, his assignments and papers I had provided him with throughout the school year. I gazed at his handwriting. What did I miss? Why wasn't there a sign? Why, Lord? I'd recently told him just a few weeks prior how much he had truly improved as a singer. This was his first year in choir, and I guess being a novice myself, I expected him to come in and perform just like his talented older brother, Gabe, who is now a four-year choir veteran. Michael took a little teaching, molding and fine-tuning {pun intended} before he was reading the bass part all by himself - and by December improved he most certainly was! 

His younger sister, Taylorann, has also quickly learned the ropes of alto. She's a stunningly beautiful girl with an even more beautiful, kind heart. I am blessed to have both Gabe and Taylorann in Bison Time {study hall period} everyday as well as in choir. I see now how the Lord had his hand in placing them both in the same room for bison time. They'll need each other in the coming days and months.

The scripture is true: "...so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."

As a college student learning to become a future choir director, I learned a plethora of ways in which you can correct your choir when their singing is out of tune. I learned how to accompany and demonstrate vocal warm-ups that will begin each rehearsal appropriately for the choir, and in a way that best suits their needs. I practiced directing collegiate ensembles, actual singers who would perform to the best of their ability but who would still need some guidance and direction on how to better enhance their sound. As a young director, I focused on perfecting varying arm gesticulations and hand articulations that would help my future choirs to achieve a desired sound.

I never learned how to deal with a situation such as this.

I never practiced walking into a room and standing in front of fifty devastated and grief-ridden faces, all of which had countless questions and I did not have an answer to provide to a single one. I think back on that Tuesday, the day after the tragedy but the first day since we had met together as a choir, and I see his empty chair sitting in the middle of the second row. A visual representation of the loss and emptiness felt in our hearts. A room that has always been full of boisterous, excited, jabbering voices, and on most days I can't get to be silent if I try, now sat deafeningly silent even before the bell sounded.  At that moment I would have given anything for it not to be silent.

I don't remember the words that I spoke. As much as I tried to prepare something to say, my mind became empty but my eyes and emotions were overflowing. I do remember my strong desire to relay to each and every one of them, each precious soul in that room, how much they are deeply loved and cared for. If by none other, then by their choir teacher.

I'm not sure that I helped anyone during that difficult week. But as I told my students on the last day of the semester, before we sang for Michael's funeral, they'll never know or understand how much they help me. Everyday. Every single day that I am with them.

Even on my very worst day so far as a teacher, I am more blessed and profoundly more fortunate than some. I know that. And I praise God for that.

I'm thankful that in the times when I feel weak, humbled, and lower than I could have ever imagined being, He is strong. He is perfect. The greatest director {dare I say, the original and best choir director there has been, is, and will ever be} of the most imperfect, horrendous group of singers sinners. We belittle, blaspheme and even blatantly ignore His directions: His perfect, unfailing, and life-changing directions.

I tell my students frequently: Sit up tall! Look interested! Watch me closely! Listen to what I'm about to tell you! Is not the Heavenly Father attempting to do the same thing, if I would only sit up in my chair and listen? Oh, the things I must be missing out on. The joy, the blessings, the sense of purpose.

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So what's my point in relaying the account of that week? One, to get the memory out of my head and heart and to put some of it down in words. There was much more to that week than what I have written here, but it feels good to share the story and to provide a release of the words I've been pondering over and over in my head.

The second is perspective. How sickeningly horrible on my part that it took something as tragic and life-altering as this to open my eyes to what is truly important. The Christmas gifts and lists I'd been working on took a back seat… like off the bus, on the back bumper of a trailer attached behind the bus, back seat. The beautiful decorations and jolly Christmas carols were no longer on the forefront. While Christmas was still wonderful spent with family, gifts were still opened, I was reminded with each activity that some, not all, of this is fleeting. The time spent with family I enjoyed and valued more. The scripture of the timeless Christmas story was more special to me this year. 

Christmas has always been my most favorite time of the year, and this year I feel inspired to carry with me into 2014 the things I've learned here in the last days of 2013.

I bought this bible today with some of my Christmas money. I own several bibles already, but I didn't have one yet with my married name on it. I want this one to symbolize a fresh start. A re-awakening of spirit and a newfound sense of purposefulness. Why am I here, right here, right now? What is my purpose? What is the Lord yearning to do through my life that I am preventing due to an unwilling and lackadaisical spirit? It is my earnest desire that I would use this time in my life as a season of growth, re-energizing, and re-dedication to what is important: making a difference in the lives of those around me.

{If anyone has the desire to join me, I'm committing to a reading plan of the New Testament. I've tried the read through the bible in a year and I always fail. I want to be realistic in my expectations, so I think the NT is a good place to start. :) This is similar to what I am thinking of doing… reading through the NT as stated with Psalms and Proverbs on the "off days" listed on this chart: http://www.scefc.org/documents/52_wks_new_testament.pdf}

God bless you and your life in 2014!

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"

Micah 6:8

{To hear the song "Meditation," the piece that the choir 

performed at Michael's funeral, click here.}