Oh, you're so good. You have so much talent. I wish I could be like you. I've heard all these phrases and more after my musical performances and I appreciate the kind words. But sometimes, I wish people could take a look behind the scenes. They see only the results, in the form of recitals, but what if they could peek into the practice rooms where I spend so much time? What would they see behind the closed doors? There, in those rooms, lies the bulk of my work as a musician. While a performance may last an hour, practice takes up hours upon hours each day. And I'm not complaining. I can honestly say that practice, in and of itself, has been an immense blessing. Why? Let me explain...
Practice is all about the process. I am always in a state of continual growth. No matter how many lessons I take, how many times I perform, or how many years I play, I will always make mistakes. When I accept that fact, I am free to find what music is truly about. I am not striving to be a "perfect" musician. I simply want my music to be a blessing, I want to build relationships with my music - first and foremost, with God, and then, also with other people.
Practice forces me to carve out time for self-reflection. Think about it: when was the last time you sat and thought deeply before, during, and after you said something - carefully considered how best to frame your words and express your inmost thoughts and feelings? As musicians, we do this on a daily basis. But instead of words, we employ the beauty and power of music.
Practice allows me to have an excuse to spend hours with Him. Just a couple days ago, one of my professors remarked about how much time we spend in the practice rooms alone (especially as pianists, because it tends to be a solo instrument). As a Christian, I beg to differ. There is nothing so sweet and extraordinary as spending time in His presence. He is the One who matters most. He is the One with whom we'll spend eternity. And music can become a conversation just between you and Him. You might even catch a glimpse of Heaven in that practice room.
But you may be reading this and thinking, "I'm not a musician, so how does this apply to me?" Allow me to let you into a few secrets I am beginning to learn...
-Whatever God has given you to work through right now, don't resent or belittle it. The mundane things can be holy things. This right here, whatever this is, can be a canvas for His glory and grace. Don't miss it!
-When you're tempted to see yourself as a failure or to wish you were like so-and-so, stop right there. Be glad you feel incomplete in your capabilities...because you are in the perfect place to remember that He alone completes you.
-We've all been given gifts. But our part is not to just receive them. We must work through them, and in so doing, open up the door to conversation with God, and ultimately, unity with Him.
-Too often we seek perfectionism when we should be seeking relationship. We can't make ourselves perfect...but we can know the One who alone is perfect.
Two weeks ago, I presented a fifty-minute recital for my degree. Many people were impressed with my performance. But what would they have seen in all the days leading up to it? Times when I didn't feel like practicing, a lesson when I almost broke down in front of my teacher, the difficult decision to postpone the recital (I would have had it last semester)...but they also would have witnessed: my conversations with God while I practiced, how I learned to take up authority over fear, the prayers and support of family and friends...and best of all, how I grew, not only as a musician, but as a person.
Wherever you are right now, dig in and practice your art; let your roots grow deep and your branches stretch toward the skies. And remember - "Sometimes your art will only be seen from the sky, from the perspective of heaven." (Ann Voskamp)