Dear Girlfriends,

It's awesome to be alive.

Life sucks.

So which of these two statements best represents where this Truth Nugget finds you today?

For me personally, life couldn't be better. For the first time in over three years my family is whole; our son has returned and is thriving as he recovers from years of drug addiction. Steve and I love this season of our life and our marriage; and the topping on my glory cake - our daughter and son-in-law, Shauna and Adam, are expecting their first child in January! It's awesome to be alive.

But maybe not for you.

Over the past six months, I have walked side-by-side with several of my dearest friends as they've journeyed through what some would refer to as hell on earth. I have seen tragedy, grief, confusion, and shame unlike I've ever witnessed before. Some of you, like them, are walking through the fire.

I wrote this series, The Piano Lesson, over two years ago. Key strokes flying, I couldn't write the words fast enough. But each time I opened the file to prepare it to "send", I would freeze. I would quickly close the file, panicked that I would offend you. But as I encourage the little girls in my life to be bold and courageous, so must I be as I write to you on the most important but controversial topic I know. Not money management; not child-rearing; not goal setting. But matters of the soul.

For those of you who are atheist or agnostic, I ask that you just hang with me for the next several weeks as you read along. I'm not looking for you to agree with me, but just as with any other series, I ask you to graciously allow me to share with you my deepest, most intimate thoughts. I'm not trying to convert you (although you probably know I'd love to). I so appreciate your willingness to let me be my authentic self. Please post your comments freely to share your views with me and our other girlfriends. I care deeply about what you think, and why.

For those of you who walk in a faith other than the Christian faith I subscribe to, I ask you to read along and consider how my observations might mirror your own and strengthen your resolve in matters of your spiritual maturation. I'm not looking to convert you, either (but I'll be honest, you know I would if I could). I also look forward to learning from you as you share with me and others how this series applies to your own faith.

My purpose on this earth is not to save souls - I'm clear on my calling. My purpose is to love you as you are but to encourage you to become more; and with this series, to consider what spiritual growth could mean for you - not just when you die, but during both your brightest and darkest days while roaming this earth.

The audience for this specific series is you girlfriends who are curious about a walk with God and those of you who take your stroll with Him for granted. I warn my Christian girlfriends - this one may be "touchy" for you, too. I particularly take us to task. And of course I know you'll tell me what you think - Christians rarely hold back! Thank you in advance for participating - we all look forward to gaining insight from your experience, too.

There are some fun parallels between connecting with one's faith and learning to play the piano.  So if you're willing, I'll take you through a series of piano lessons with the objective of teaching you to play Heart and Soul. Our first lesson will begin on Tuesday. Bring your music.

As bold and courageous as I've ever been,

Posted on August 15, 2007 4:33 PM  |  Category: The Piano Lesson

Dear Girlfriends,

My first piano lesson - I was so excited. Five years old, heart thumping, I carried my new music books in a little red satchel (I've always been "all about the bag") to Mrs. Lucile Booth's house. Well, to the other children she was known as Mrs. Booth, but to me she was my great-aunt, who we called Aunt 'Cil.

Aunt 'Cil was not a push-over for any of us - especially me. She had my number from day one and promptly burst my bubble by explaining to me that no, I would not be prepared to perform on stage anytime in the near future - I had work to do. Work? I thought this was called playing the piano, not working it! Besides, what's the point if I can't sit on the stage, under the bright lights, with everyone applauding my magnificent performance? No, she explained, "we have to prepare". And prepare I did. Yes, there would be annual spring recitals in my future but I wouldn't perform on a real stage (for me that meant a college auditorium) for 20 more years.

But that 20 years of piano lessons, theory classes, and the endless ticking of the metronome gave me the foundation I needed for when I would finally hit the stage. I was a nervous wreck knowing that my final grade depended on a flawless performance. The heat was on.

I suspect for about half of you reading this today - the heat is on for you, too. Life is hard; tragedy is staring you in the face or at best, disappointments are mounting. If you're a sub-set of the other half of our readers, maybe you've not yet had your face-to-face with despair. Well. . . you won't be left out. I don't mean to worry you but I'm also not going to sugar-coat the reality: None of us escape the pain and suffering that accompanies the gift of life. We will all, women of all faiths and no faith, single or married, rich or poor, live through the season when the suffering seems to have no end. The question is - how well have you prepared?

"Life has a way of crashing down on us without warning. Whether we like it or
not, sooner or later, all of us end up in the war zone, where life ceases to be tidy and the pain threshold goes off the charts. Women are not spared this kind of active combat, which makes it all the more urgent for us to think through our theology so our views of God will sustain us when the battle begins to rage." 

        - Carolyn Curtis James,
        When Life and Beliefs Collide; How Knowing God Makes a Difference  

A business fails and bankruptcy looms.

A nursery stands empty.

A son is arrested.

A husband is missing from his side of the bed.

Life is hard. The heat is on.

Do you feel like you're sitting on the stage, alone? You're not.

As hopeless, as empty, as tired, as frustrated, as sad, and as angry as you might feel, I want you to know you're not going through this alone. He's sitting right there on the bench beside you. The question is: Will you let God play, too? Or is this a solo performance?

Whether you're facing your biggest nightmare or living the big life, I hope you will consider how great it would be to have Him on stage with you. Only God can fortify you with confidence, hope, and peace as you play the hard notes.

We have work to do.

Posted on August 22, 2007 11:52 AM  |  Category: The Piano Lesson

Dear Girlfriends,

I was on my knees, head to the floor, furiously screaming: "Where are you? Don't you care? Why have you totally abandoned me?"

He was nowhere in sight. Day after day, my Savior had failed to show up in my crisis - and now the situation had reached an all-time climax. I was heartbroken, and I was furious. He was missing in action and I was completely disoriented.

To find my way back, I had to rely on two principles learned during my first year of piano.

After Aunt 'Cil burst my bubble by informing me that there would be no Carnegie Hall in my near future, we got down to business. The very first thing she taught me was the principle of middle C: here is where it is, and this is where you find it on every piano. If you ever get lost, looking at all the black and whites - head home to middle C.

I learned another critical lesson, later that same year. Because I was very small, I found it difficult to reach the lower and upper octaves (the next set of 7 to 14 keys on the keyboard). This required me to "scoot" up and down the piano bench. However petite I was, Aunt 'Cil informed me, it was no excuse for such poor performance behavior. Scooting on one's hiney was not allowed! No, if I wanted to be an accomplished performer, I was told I must learn to stretch.

There are some interesting parallels between finding middle C, scooting around, and losing sight of God. First, just like middle C, God is always in the same place. Regardless of what piano we're playing, regardless if our life is on the upswing or spinning out of control, He's there and willing to be our compass when we get lost. On every piano, and for every person - regardless of age or origin, history or future - middle C and God never move around; when we get disoriented, we can always head home.

Second, like music, circumstances in our lives often lead us into "hard-to-reach places" and sometimes we scoot around, trying to make life sound better or feel better than it really is. Rather than stretching and staying close to God when the music turns dissonant, we develop some bad performance habits. We act self-reliant; we become self-absorbed; we attempt to self-medicate; and we ultimately self-loathe. And we ask, again, "Where are you?"

On that Thursday evening nearly nine years ago, my grief was more than I could handle and the hurt of my absent LORD burned deep in my soul. Where did He go? How could He not hear the pleas of a mother who loved her child so dearly?

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8

That same night would prove to be a turning point in my acceptance of His sovereign plan, and the first step in building an unwavering faith that sustains me today.

To find middle C - to find God again, you will need to head home. He hasn't moved. He hasn't abandoned you. He's just waiting for you to get off the bench so He can play the encore.

Seeing Him clearly in His silence,

Posted by Ellen on August 30, 2007 11:38 AM  |  Category: The Piano Lesson