moving on

Today would've been my Papa Jack's 89th birthday.  This explains why I've been singing the silly songs he made up to my bambini all day long -- the ones about bamboo bungalows built for two (or six) and passengers refraining from flushing toilets while the train is standing in the station (which ends with "I love you"), but I only just made the connection.

It was also on this day several years ago that I went on my first piano audition at a university I was considering in Chicago near my extended family.  I was disappointed in how the audition went, even though Grannie had pointed out it was Papa Jack's birthday *and* it was raining, which he always took as a sign of good luck.  After the dismal audition (it *was* my first one, after all), I failed to see the good in the outcome.  But it was there.

I would go on a few more auditions, one of which resulted in a scholarship to the school that is now my alma mater and, consequently, a degree in piano (which I put to use this evening with the elder lad in an impromptu and very brief piano lesson) along with a blessing-filled college experience for which I will always be grateful.

Somewhere around this time I developed an affinity for the work of American artist Mary Engelbreit.  One of her creations spoke volumes to me then and still does.  A Huckleberry Finn-like character is walking down a road marked "your life", having just bypassed an intersection with a path marked "no longer an option."  I used to have a poster of this framed and hanging on the wall, but since we still have bare walls, I had to look it up online.  Here's a link to the image. 

At the time of that first audition I had my heart set on going to college in Chicago so as to be near my family there.  As it turned out, I would get that opportunity a few years in the form of a summer internship at Lyric Opera of Chicago.

I thought of the "Don't Look Back" image when I learned that a mom from our school community with whom I had just recently begun cultivating a friendship would be moving down the 'pike a ways with her family.  We had only just begun to get to know each other; we share many things in common.  This move is really for the best for her family.  I only wish I had gotten to know her better sooner, though I do hope we will continue our conversations via the many ways of communicating available to us.

Recently we were discussing some points in each of our lives when we struggled with submitting our own wills to that of God.  In a few decisive events, we came to realize that the God-given gifts and talents we wanted to use clearly weren't where God wanted us to be focusing our attention at that time.  By making peace with using other gifts and talents he had given us other than the ones we had developed more and were more comfortable using, we were able to move past the disappointment and find the blessings.

So as she moves on with her family, I wish her every blessing.  I thank her for the gift of friendship she has extended to me, and I look forward to seeing her as opportunities present themselves for us to visit in person.

The road ahead goes in one direction.  We can't go backward -- only forward.  We don't know where the road will lead, but Christ has it all mapped out.