One Note at a Time

 While recently speaking to some friends, I mentioned that I had ordered a Native American flute. One responded, "But you don't know how to play a Native American flute!" Well, she was right, but I do know how to play a transverse concert (albeit an older student model) flute. I sought some advice from a friend who does play a Native American flute, and I did some reading online. I picked a flute in a key that was suggested as a good starting point for someone to learn, especially if that person has small hands as I do. It arrived yesterday, and while there are some challenges as there are with learning anything, I am finding the process satisfying.  I have wanted an earthier, warmer sound than my current flute can give me, and I actually have heard the sound of Native American flutes in my dreams. I really love to follow threads like this.

Before I went to seminary, I attended the same church where a retired Presbyterian pastor was a member. He was always encouraging of my struggles to sense where I was growing and going in my faith. When the time came, he and others encouraged me to go to seminary. Through his son-law's FaceBook post today, I learned that Rev. Earl Kehret  passed away last night. I left a comment that I would always be grateful for Earl. In addition to his encouragement about seminary, he suggested a book to me, The Land of Little Rain by Mary Austin. I can't even remember why this book of the Eastern Sierra came up, but it is a book that I treasure. Tyler and I will be heading to the Eastern Sierra in a couple of weeks. I shall take the memory of Earl and my new flute with me, and I will play a song somewhere along the way in his memory. Will it be perfect? Well, I doubt it. However, the drive to perfection was never the message Earl gave me. He simply encouraged me to grow. 

Earl, I am grateful, and I know many others are as well. May we all follow your good example, and encourage one another to explore and grow into who God is calling us to be,  even when the way seems so unclear. I think it is time for all of us to dream big and go.   

     

"For all the toll the desert takes of a man [Austin's book was first published in 1903] it gives compensations, deep breaths, deep sleep, and the communion of the stars."  

Mary Austin, The Land of Little Rain  

           

              

 image: San Leandro, June, 2022 No, not exactly a desert, but the way is not clear. It is, however, beautiful.