I've had a rare weekend of vacation this weekend, with another -- involving a short trip -- next weekend. It's been a time of rest and relaxation for me, though with an indisposition (upon which I won't elaborate) which resulted in my not attempting to visit another congregation for worship. I even managed to sleep through broadcast church services!
It's been strange to me that I've had nothing to say here on the blog. Not that I didn't want to, but I still really don't have anything I wish to "put out there." Other than to update my few readers on the goings on here in Psalmist-land, I just don't have words to share.
So...here's the update!
* I recently signed a contract with a major sacred choral music publisher for the publication of an anthem for which I provided the lyrics. I'm pleased that there is a well-respected editor, and that both SATB and two-part editions are in the works. The respected release date is Spring 2009, and potential royalties at least a year out from then. But unlike my first published work, this publisher markets well and this is also less of a "niche" text. I anticipate that it will sell well among youth choirs and in school markets open to religious texts.
* My secular work situation is fairly promising, if a bit of a roller-coaster right now. I have been on a temporary assignment as (senior) administrative assistant to the CFO of a major hospital network for about two months now. It was only announced last week, though I had known for several weeks, that my boss resigned and a new interim CFO appointment has been announced. This occurred only a few weeks after our CEO was asked by the board to step down, and an interim CEO was announced. He (the interim CEO) went out of his way to tell me that he had received excellent reports about, and seen for himself, the good job I've been doing; he was very much in favor o fmy staying on the assignment indefinitely, if I wanted to. Though it has been very difficult to handle the uncertainty involved in an about-to-resign and completely absent boss -- one I truly liked and enjoyed working for -- I realized I'd be a complete fool to leave. Had my first boss stayed, all the signs were there for me to be hired permanently. Well, now that I've met and worked with my new boss just a little, again I see signs that he would like for me to stay as long as I wish to; he stated that he has no desire to bring in anyone else for the position and he values my input as far as procedures and perceptions of how we can best get the CFO's duties done well. SOOOO...all that to say, I'm in a pretty good situation, for a temp! It's the temp part of it that I want to see change. I'm still in that limbo of being unable to take any time off to see a doctor, and there's just too much that I've put off for too long. Not that I couldn't afford the visit, but the tests and the meds would bankrupt me. I've been that close to the financial edge for that long.
* Church continues to go well. I missed "my people" this morning, but I need this time away as well. I worked lots of extra hours so I could be ready to be completely gone for two weekends in a row, and in the wee hours of Saturday morning, I finally made it back home and hit the sack. I've decided, and have the pastor's blessing, to limit my schedule to two nights per week as much as possible. This will mean combining my youth and adult handbell ensembles, probably on Tuesday nights, and continuing with my adult choir on Wednesday nights. Between gas prices and the official number of hours of my employment, to say nothing of running myself ragged with three nights per week, I think this will be better stewardship of my time and energy. Meanwhile, once I return from vacation, that next Wed. night I'll be meeting with my team for VBS music, then we kick it off the next Sunday night. I'll have to ask to leave early from the day job Mon - Thurs of that week, which is a lot for a temp to ask for. Fortunately, my new boss is a Christian and I think will understand and concur, as long as I get my work done. We (the day job) have a budget workshop that next Saturday, for which I have to prepare lots of the materials, but I don't actually have to be at the workshop. It's always something. At least I'm not bored.
*To the several who have been interested in hearing about the "romantic relationship," it's ongoing, but very low-key. There is significant geographic distance involved, and neither of us, by mutual agreement, is planning any travel to be together for the time being. He's been through some seriously difficult family issues lately, and we've been drawn close in prayer about them. You're welcome to pray, too, if you're so inclined. Names and specifics are not important; God knows all concerned. :)
*And so, I continue to walk by faith and not by sight. Just reviewing what I've written shows that other than my part-time church position, nothing could be considered "stable." After all these years of instability, I'm not sure what I'd do with a suddenly "stable" life. (Isn't "stable life" for horses?) God always has been, and remains, sufficient. And perhaps that's why there isn't more to write. What more is there, really, that needs to be said?
Showing posts with label music ministry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music ministry. Show all posts
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Coming up for air
No, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth.
No, Jenny the Righteously-Angry hasn't taken me hostage.
No, I haven't given up blogging for the latter part of the Easter season.
I've just been engulfed in real life.
I'm in the middle of being considered for a full-time staff position with a church almost an hour away and have gone there twice for interviews; a third is scheduled for tomorrow night.
I've just finished working many hours at the United Methodist General Conference (like so many other UMs who live relatively close to Fort Worth). In my case, I spent nearly all that time editing verbatim transcripts of sermons and plenary legislative sessions. (Can you say "terminal headphone hair"?)
'Tis also the season for much serving when one is engaged in music ministry in the local church. My children's choirs' year-end concert was last Sunday, my school-age children's choir is scheduled to be THE service choir next Sunday (Pentecost AND Mother's Day--wheeeee!), and all the church's music groups will be performing for "A Patriotic Celebration" on Sunday evening, May 18th. Most of those groups (that is, all the ones I lead) are decidedly under-prepared, so we're just this side of frantic right now.
Oh, and I'm still between day-job work, General Conference ($12/hour) and a few one-day assignments here and there notwithstanding.
But other than that, nothing much is happening.
But yes, there is, actually. However, it's not something I'm ready to blog about just yet. But it's big, or at least has the potential to be big in the near future.
And THAT is all that's happening at Chez Psalmist. Well, no, there is even more than that, because God is truly good and merciful, but there aren't words.
I'm OK. Truly. Just very, very tired.
No, Jenny the Righteously-Angry hasn't taken me hostage.
No, I haven't given up blogging for the latter part of the Easter season.
I've just been engulfed in real life.
I'm in the middle of being considered for a full-time staff position with a church almost an hour away and have gone there twice for interviews; a third is scheduled for tomorrow night.
I've just finished working many hours at the United Methodist General Conference (like so many other UMs who live relatively close to Fort Worth). In my case, I spent nearly all that time editing verbatim transcripts of sermons and plenary legislative sessions. (Can you say "terminal headphone hair"?)
'Tis also the season for much serving when one is engaged in music ministry in the local church. My children's choirs' year-end concert was last Sunday, my school-age children's choir is scheduled to be THE service choir next Sunday (Pentecost AND Mother's Day--wheeeee!), and all the church's music groups will be performing for "A Patriotic Celebration" on Sunday evening, May 18th. Most of those groups (that is, all the ones I lead) are decidedly under-prepared, so we're just this side of frantic right now.
Oh, and I'm still between day-job work, General Conference ($12/hour) and a few one-day assignments here and there notwithstanding.
But other than that, nothing much is happening.
But yes, there is, actually. However, it's not something I'm ready to blog about just yet. But it's big, or at least has the potential to be big in the near future.
And THAT is all that's happening at Chez Psalmist. Well, no, there is even more than that, because God is truly good and merciful, but there aren't words.
I'm OK. Truly. Just very, very tired.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Back again
Hello. It's the amazing disappearing Psalmist, re-emerging from blog silence.
I thought about concocting a story about a top-secret mission to eradicate some evil or other, but then realized I wouldn't be able to say anything about it if it were so, so that's out.
I thought about being humorous, but I'm not especially funny these days.
I thought about just yanking down the blog altogether because I obviously am not spending any time with it. But I don't really want to do that, either.
The truth is, a lot of "stuff," some of it good, has been happening, and I'm simply overwhelmed.
I've added an additional ensemble with rehearsal on another weeknight. This means I have three weeknight rehearsals, with a fourth ensemble/rehearsal once per month. My official lineup is:
SUNDAY
Early service with ensemble warm-up prior
Warm-up rehearsal between services when "extra" group(s) sing/ring
Late service with choir warm-up prior
(Give a private voice lesson right after lunch; GOOD student)
Evening service - no music responsibilities except putting out books
(Half-hour for community supper)
Pre-school choir rehearsal
School-age choir rehearsal
Lock-up/close-up facilities
MONDAY
Day job (more about that below)
Adult handbell rehearsal
TUESDAY
Day job
Youth handbell rehearsal
WEDNESDAY
Day job
Adult choir rehearsal
(Private voice lesson -- for a flaky student)
THURSDAY
Day job
Monthly early service ensemble rehearsal
Semi-monthly administrative council meeting
FRIDAY
Day job
OFF! in the evening
SATURDAY
OFF! (Except when something's going on at church)
There is a lot going on. Sometimes it helps to see it in a list like that.
As for the day job, it's really in flux. I was out of day-job work for most of the month of October. I applied for unemployment benefits, but though my church income doesn't "count" toward qualifying for benefits, I'm still required to report it so that the state can pay me less. I am getting a little bit -- I say am getting because I haven't got it all yet. I've applied for a position at a local non-profit agency and I'm rather excited about it. One of the members of my church, whose daughter's wedding I coordinated this summer, suggested I apply. She's a VP of the agency. There is hope...
Meanwhile, I reluctantly accepted a receptionist position through an agency at the company where, the first of the year, I fully expected to temp into a dream job. That ended when my boss there was suddenly and unexpectedly fired. Anyway, the regular receptionist, who's been there over 15 years, had major surgery. I could have turned down the assignment, as it pays less than the minimum the state said I had to accept, but the receptionist was extraordinarily kind to me on a number of occasions and it's a way to both work and do something good for her. I don't like the work -- busy telephones take way too much out of me and make me super-nervous -- but it IS work. Bummer, though...the agency originally called me frantic for a same-day beginning to the assignment and said it was for just a few cents per hour lower than I made there the last time, which was fine. So I accepted and was getting dressed to go in, then I got a call and they were reducing the rate to more than $1.50 an hour less. That's where I got reluctant. Unprofessional, on both the agency's and the company's part. I let stuff like that get to me.
During my unemployment, I had several interviews. One was for a hospital system and I decided I needed to splurge on a suit, because all of my suits are many years old and/or don't fit me very well. Found one on sale and snapped it up; I've gotten a lot of compliments on it. (A classic look with some updated details. See photo image. And no, it is NOT a photo of me. It's the model in the online catalog of a store that begins with the same initials as Jesus Christ's, and ends with a homophone of the smallest denomination of American coin.)
Anyway, I've worn it exactly three times, and was going to take it to be cleaned, only to discover that the side seams of the skirt are disintegrating. That is, the fabric is fraying out into the body of the skirt from both sides of the seam. It is beyond repair. This was a well-fitting suit. In fact, it was slightly on the loose side; not tight in any way. I did nothing to cause this problem. But now I have to go back to the store to do battle and see if I can return it after three wearings...then wonder if there's ANYTHING that will not fall apart that fits me for anywhere near the same price...since I have very little money at this point to spend on something more expensive. And I do want to dress impeccably for the non-profit agency interview. I'm a class act and I want to dress that way, too.
(Warning to the women out there, considering buying garments made of the new synthetic loose-weave tweed stuff: DON'T BUY IT, at least not until you've checked the construction very carefully and tested the durability of the seam areas.)
Meanwhile, back at the interviews: I didn't get the new suit hospital position. I also didn't get one I applied for on my own, at a WordPerfect law office. I let the person who gave me their proof-reading test take it from me before I was finished and therefore I missed too much on it -- duh! It was not a good experience and showed me that the attorney, who wasn't even there that day, let someone totally inept screen his applicants in a very unprofessional way. Probably just as well, but that second "wearing of the suit" went the way of the first. (Another agency underbid mine on the hospital job, and my agency didn't even bother to call me to tell me. It took me three calls to them to find out.)
And on top of everything else, there have been trials here at my apartment complex. It's an older complex and getting less and less safe. With no warning, the management changed the first of September and it wasn't until this past Thursday that I found out the municipal housing authority had purchased the property. With being out of work, the money I'd been hoping to accumulate so I could afford to move the end of this month (when my lease was up) got spent to pay bills instead. I lost the $50-off any month's rent voucher that was part of my last renewal incentive because there was no notice of the pending sale. They were going to renege on my reserved parking place that it took me 4 1/2 years to qualify for and which is a safety issue for me. But finally, because my options were limited, I met with the new manager Thursday right after work and she discussed the issues. She decided she would keep the existing reserved spaces and was negotiating with the towing company on authorizing towing when others park in the spaces (an ongoing problem, especially since the office personnel were telling new residents they COULD park in them). But my rent went up significantly, though it's still very reasonable for the size of my unit in this market. The handwriting's on the wall, though. I need to move next year, before I'm forced to because of income restrictions they're almost certainly going to impose in 1-2 years. But I signed a new lease. There's something oddly reassuring about that. (In my first phone conversation with the manager, after I learned about the pending elimination of reserved parking, I said I'd have to re-think living someplace where a valuable "perk" of being a long-term resident was not going to be honored, she said she'd be glad to let me out of my lease with no penalty so I could move immediately. That did NOT leave me feeling like she valued long-term tenants on the property. Fortunately, she had a very different attitude when I visited in person.)
Well, that's WAY more than I planned to blog about. But it's the stuff that's been distracting and troubling me.
What I do want to be sure to include is this: Tomorrow we celebrate All Saints' Sunday. In addition to Holy Communion and remembering our departed saints, we're also celebrating the baptism of our newest child, the little sister of one of my favorite children, a four-year-old boy who makes me smile every time we meet. (He's also the boy who ran to his Nana and mom very upset last Saturday night at Trunk or Treat, because he'd seen me fall on the parking lot and hurt myself, saying "Miss [Psalmist] is hurt! Mom, is she going to be OK? I'll miss her if she can't come to choir." --How sweet is that?!) I love the reminder that all of life is a cycle of birth and death, that we're surrounded by that great cloud of witnesses as we run our race to obtain the prize.
Our God is VERY good!
I thought about concocting a story about a top-secret mission to eradicate some evil or other, but then realized I wouldn't be able to say anything about it if it were so, so that's out.
I thought about being humorous, but I'm not especially funny these days.
I thought about just yanking down the blog altogether because I obviously am not spending any time with it. But I don't really want to do that, either.
The truth is, a lot of "stuff," some of it good, has been happening, and I'm simply overwhelmed.
I've added an additional ensemble with rehearsal on another weeknight. This means I have three weeknight rehearsals, with a fourth ensemble/rehearsal once per month. My official lineup is:
SUNDAY
Early service with ensemble warm-up prior
Warm-up rehearsal between services when "extra" group(s) sing/ring
Late service with choir warm-up prior
(Give a private voice lesson right after lunch; GOOD student)
Evening service - no music responsibilities except putting out books
(Half-hour for community supper)
Pre-school choir rehearsal
School-age choir rehearsal
Lock-up/close-up facilities
MONDAY
Day job (more about that below)
Adult handbell rehearsal
TUESDAY
Day job
Youth handbell rehearsal
WEDNESDAY
Day job
Adult choir rehearsal
(Private voice lesson -- for a flaky student)
THURSDAY
Day job
Monthly early service ensemble rehearsal
Semi-monthly administrative council meeting
FRIDAY
Day job
OFF! in the evening
SATURDAY
OFF! (Except when something's going on at church)
There is a lot going on. Sometimes it helps to see it in a list like that.
As for the day job, it's really in flux. I was out of day-job work for most of the month of October. I applied for unemployment benefits, but though my church income doesn't "count" toward qualifying for benefits, I'm still required to report it so that the state can pay me less. I am getting a little bit -- I say am getting because I haven't got it all yet. I've applied for a position at a local non-profit agency and I'm rather excited about it. One of the members of my church, whose daughter's wedding I coordinated this summer, suggested I apply. She's a VP of the agency. There is hope...
Meanwhile, I reluctantly accepted a receptionist position through an agency at the company where, the first of the year, I fully expected to temp into a dream job. That ended when my boss there was suddenly and unexpectedly fired. Anyway, the regular receptionist, who's been there over 15 years, had major surgery. I could have turned down the assignment, as it pays less than the minimum the state said I had to accept, but the receptionist was extraordinarily kind to me on a number of occasions and it's a way to both work and do something good for her. I don't like the work -- busy telephones take way too much out of me and make me super-nervous -- but it IS work. Bummer, though...the agency originally called me frantic for a same-day beginning to the assignment and said it was for just a few cents per hour lower than I made there the last time, which was fine. So I accepted and was getting dressed to go in, then I got a call and they were reducing the rate to more than $1.50 an hour less. That's where I got reluctant. Unprofessional, on both the agency's and the company's part. I let stuff like that get to me.
During my unemployment, I had several interviews. One was for a hospital system and I decided I needed to splurge on a suit, because all of my suits are many years old and/or don't fit me very well. Found one on sale and snapped it up; I've gotten a lot of compliments on it. (A classic look with some updated details. See photo image. And no, it is NOT a photo of me. It's the model in the online catalog of a store that begins with the same initials as Jesus Christ's, and ends with a homophone of the smallest denomination of American coin.)
Anyway, I've worn it exactly three times, and was going to take it to be cleaned, only to discover that the side seams of the skirt are disintegrating. That is, the fabric is fraying out into the body of the skirt from both sides of the seam. It is beyond repair. This was a well-fitting suit. In fact, it was slightly on the loose side; not tight in any way. I did nothing to cause this problem. But now I have to go back to the store to do battle and see if I can return it after three wearings...then wonder if there's ANYTHING that will not fall apart that fits me for anywhere near the same price...since I have very little money at this point to spend on something more expensive. And I do want to dress impeccably for the non-profit agency interview. I'm a class act and I want to dress that way, too.
(Warning to the women out there, considering buying garments made of the new synthetic loose-weave tweed stuff: DON'T BUY IT, at least not until you've checked the construction very carefully and tested the durability of the seam areas.)
Meanwhile, back at the interviews: I didn't get the new suit hospital position. I also didn't get one I applied for on my own, at a WordPerfect law office. I let the person who gave me their proof-reading test take it from me before I was finished and therefore I missed too much on it -- duh! It was not a good experience and showed me that the attorney, who wasn't even there that day, let someone totally inept screen his applicants in a very unprofessional way. Probably just as well, but that second "wearing of the suit" went the way of the first. (Another agency underbid mine on the hospital job, and my agency didn't even bother to call me to tell me. It took me three calls to them to find out.)
And on top of everything else, there have been trials here at my apartment complex. It's an older complex and getting less and less safe. With no warning, the management changed the first of September and it wasn't until this past Thursday that I found out the municipal housing authority had purchased the property. With being out of work, the money I'd been hoping to accumulate so I could afford to move the end of this month (when my lease was up) got spent to pay bills instead. I lost the $50-off any month's rent voucher that was part of my last renewal incentive because there was no notice of the pending sale. They were going to renege on my reserved parking place that it took me 4 1/2 years to qualify for and which is a safety issue for me. But finally, because my options were limited, I met with the new manager Thursday right after work and she discussed the issues. She decided she would keep the existing reserved spaces and was negotiating with the towing company on authorizing towing when others park in the spaces (an ongoing problem, especially since the office personnel were telling new residents they COULD park in them). But my rent went up significantly, though it's still very reasonable for the size of my unit in this market. The handwriting's on the wall, though. I need to move next year, before I'm forced to because of income restrictions they're almost certainly going to impose in 1-2 years. But I signed a new lease. There's something oddly reassuring about that. (In my first phone conversation with the manager, after I learned about the pending elimination of reserved parking, I said I'd have to re-think living someplace where a valuable "perk" of being a long-term resident was not going to be honored, she said she'd be glad to let me out of my lease with no penalty so I could move immediately. That did NOT leave me feeling like she valued long-term tenants on the property. Fortunately, she had a very different attitude when I visited in person.)
Well, that's WAY more than I planned to blog about. But it's the stuff that's been distracting and troubling me.
What I do want to be sure to include is this: Tomorrow we celebrate All Saints' Sunday. In addition to Holy Communion and remembering our departed saints, we're also celebrating the baptism of our newest child, the little sister of one of my favorite children, a four-year-old boy who makes me smile every time we meet. (He's also the boy who ran to his Nana and mom very upset last Saturday night at Trunk or Treat, because he'd seen me fall on the parking lot and hurt myself, saying "Miss [Psalmist] is hurt! Mom, is she going to be OK? I'll miss her if she can't come to choir." --How sweet is that?!) I love the reminder that all of life is a cycle of birth and death, that we're surrounded by that great cloud of witnesses as we run our race to obtain the prize.
Our God is VERY good!
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Wrestling, revisited
I've been off the blog here lately, dealing with a pretty major issue (actually two related issues). I've decided to write about it here.
The friends who've been keeping up with my employment situation are aware that, as things stand now, I have two disparate areas of work: my position as part-time minister of music at my much-loved church, and my scrambling efforts to stay employed in the secular business world as an administrative support worker. The former is very stable; I find a great deal of satisfaction ministering in an area in which I'm technically very competent and which is a good match for a number of my strongest gifts. The latter, unfortunately, is sapping much of my strength and energy. The work isn't; here again, I'm more than competent and bring a lot of good skills to the positions I've filled. The problem is that over and over again, the positions that could have/were supposed to result in a job offer, have fizzled or shifted or been eliminated. As much as I try to tell myself it's no reflection on who I am, each disappointment rips out a piece of me. I suppose that's because I don't just show up and work like an automaton; I put a lot of myself into my work and take pride in the excellence of what I do. When the job goes away, it's difficult not to see that as a negative judgment of the value of who I am and what I can do.
The obvious answer (for quite some time now) is to work full-time at the part-time job. That would be great, if I could only afford to stop doing secular work. But I am my own sole support. A pitifully small retirement fund is my only "nest egg." Other than marrying for money--something for which I have had exactly zilch offers--there's no way to make ends meet if I ditch the secular employment. This is not whining, this is fact.
(It's this reality that makes me laugh sometimes at the patriarchalists' pontifications that claim a woman's only godly option is to "be a keeper at home." That's all well and good and should be a viable, honorable choice--for those women who are truly called to minister primarily to husbands and children. Those of us who have neither, simply don't exist in their myopic little world. But I digress...)
A United Methodist church the next county over is searching for a full-time music minister. After much prayer and consultation with the dear friend who is also my pastor, I've applied. After speaking with the pastor to follow up on sending my resume, it appears I'm a strong candidate. (This was confirmed by my pastor, who also spoke with him.)
The thing is, I hate to even think of leaving my church. It's a seriously painful prospect. However, the ongoing pain (to say nothing of the financial uncertainty) of never knowing if I have a job to go to that will pay the bills, has become overwhelming to me. With every assignment I accept, it has become harder and harder to psych myself up to be perky and optimistic and positive. (I'm not genuinely any of those things even at my best! So I'm doing a whole lot of faking of it now.)
(Note to my readers: If you have an administrative assistant or associate with anyone who does administrative support work for you, PLEASE don't treat such people as disposable, as though there's ten more just like 'em where they came from. That's a unique, gifted child of God who is doing a valuable job for you, probably for pay most other people would laugh at. Cherish that person as an intelligent employee. They're not human wallpaper, even if they're "just a temp." Too many people have no concept just how poorly they treat administrative support personnel. That's somebody's life they're messing with. If they're not doing things up to snuff, talk to them! They are probably capable of a lot more and with a little encouragement could end up being invaluable to you. End of rant/suggestion/encouragement to keep on loving your admin support folks.)
A full-time position like this is what I earned my degree to do. It was a cold blow to learn, upon searching for a full-time music ministry position, that that degree would have to be a stepping-stone to an advanced degree if I ever wanted to work in such a position. It was when I was doing just that that my marriage failed, my money ran out, and God seemed to be moving me toward a different kind of ministry. I'm still not out of that bewildering territory. Just what AM I called to do? In answer to that ongoing question, this door seems to be opening. Is this going to be the means by which I eventually return to school and finish SOME master's degree? I don't know. I do know that I'm called to be faithful, trusting God to reveal enough of the way so that I may follow. My heart's been in the desert for a long time, ever since leaving pastoral ministry six years ago. During those four precious years, I knew without doubt that I was where God wanted me to be, doing what God was callign me to do. My soul almost died when I left. Now, the grace and love that surround me part of the time, at my church, serve to underscore just how lacking in grace and love much of the business world is. I have tried, very hard, to be faithful in that desert, offering God in whatever ways I could to those with whom I've worked. But that's very different from the clearly ongoing call to help equip the saints to minister in the world.
Is this possible return to full-time church ministry God's supply of a field in which to labor? I don't know. I suppose I'll know when and if the position is offered to me. All the experts say to do what you love, and the money will follow. I don't know about that. I do know that I've longed for a very long time to do what I'm passionate about: helping fellow disciples to grow in Jesus Christ and to develop and use their own gifts for ministry. It's what I'm gifted to do. It's what I'm called to do. It's what I want to do. Dear God, you know it's what I've been trying to do for all these years.
I'm trying to trust you.
The friends who've been keeping up with my employment situation are aware that, as things stand now, I have two disparate areas of work: my position as part-time minister of music at my much-loved church, and my scrambling efforts to stay employed in the secular business world as an administrative support worker. The former is very stable; I find a great deal of satisfaction ministering in an area in which I'm technically very competent and which is a good match for a number of my strongest gifts. The latter, unfortunately, is sapping much of my strength and energy. The work isn't; here again, I'm more than competent and bring a lot of good skills to the positions I've filled. The problem is that over and over again, the positions that could have/were supposed to result in a job offer, have fizzled or shifted or been eliminated. As much as I try to tell myself it's no reflection on who I am, each disappointment rips out a piece of me. I suppose that's because I don't just show up and work like an automaton; I put a lot of myself into my work and take pride in the excellence of what I do. When the job goes away, it's difficult not to see that as a negative judgment of the value of who I am and what I can do.
The obvious answer (for quite some time now) is to work full-time at the part-time job. That would be great, if I could only afford to stop doing secular work. But I am my own sole support. A pitifully small retirement fund is my only "nest egg." Other than marrying for money--something for which I have had exactly zilch offers--there's no way to make ends meet if I ditch the secular employment. This is not whining, this is fact.
(It's this reality that makes me laugh sometimes at the patriarchalists' pontifications that claim a woman's only godly option is to "be a keeper at home." That's all well and good and should be a viable, honorable choice--for those women who are truly called to minister primarily to husbands and children. Those of us who have neither, simply don't exist in their myopic little world. But I digress...)
A United Methodist church the next county over is searching for a full-time music minister. After much prayer and consultation with the dear friend who is also my pastor, I've applied. After speaking with the pastor to follow up on sending my resume, it appears I'm a strong candidate. (This was confirmed by my pastor, who also spoke with him.)
The thing is, I hate to even think of leaving my church. It's a seriously painful prospect. However, the ongoing pain (to say nothing of the financial uncertainty) of never knowing if I have a job to go to that will pay the bills, has become overwhelming to me. With every assignment I accept, it has become harder and harder to psych myself up to be perky and optimistic and positive. (I'm not genuinely any of those things even at my best! So I'm doing a whole lot of faking of it now.)
(Note to my readers: If you have an administrative assistant or associate with anyone who does administrative support work for you, PLEASE don't treat such people as disposable, as though there's ten more just like 'em where they came from. That's a unique, gifted child of God who is doing a valuable job for you, probably for pay most other people would laugh at. Cherish that person as an intelligent employee. They're not human wallpaper, even if they're "just a temp." Too many people have no concept just how poorly they treat administrative support personnel. That's somebody's life they're messing with. If they're not doing things up to snuff, talk to them! They are probably capable of a lot more and with a little encouragement could end up being invaluable to you. End of rant/suggestion/encouragement to keep on loving your admin support folks.)
A full-time position like this is what I earned my degree to do. It was a cold blow to learn, upon searching for a full-time music ministry position, that that degree would have to be a stepping-stone to an advanced degree if I ever wanted to work in such a position. It was when I was doing just that that my marriage failed, my money ran out, and God seemed to be moving me toward a different kind of ministry. I'm still not out of that bewildering territory. Just what AM I called to do? In answer to that ongoing question, this door seems to be opening. Is this going to be the means by which I eventually return to school and finish SOME master's degree? I don't know. I do know that I'm called to be faithful, trusting God to reveal enough of the way so that I may follow. My heart's been in the desert for a long time, ever since leaving pastoral ministry six years ago. During those four precious years, I knew without doubt that I was where God wanted me to be, doing what God was callign me to do. My soul almost died when I left. Now, the grace and love that surround me part of the time, at my church, serve to underscore just how lacking in grace and love much of the business world is. I have tried, very hard, to be faithful in that desert, offering God in whatever ways I could to those with whom I've worked. But that's very different from the clearly ongoing call to help equip the saints to minister in the world.
Is this possible return to full-time church ministry God's supply of a field in which to labor? I don't know. I suppose I'll know when and if the position is offered to me. All the experts say to do what you love, and the money will follow. I don't know about that. I do know that I've longed for a very long time to do what I'm passionate about: helping fellow disciples to grow in Jesus Christ and to develop and use their own gifts for ministry. It's what I'm gifted to do. It's what I'm called to do. It's what I want to do. Dear God, you know it's what I've been trying to do for all these years.
I'm trying to trust you.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
A Musical Journey to Easter
Dear readers,
This has been a blessed week. At every point, the week has been marked by powerful music. Here is a re-tracing of the steps we took together at my church.
Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! We sang "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" as our opening hymn on Palm/Passion Sunday while the children waved palm branches. The choir sang the "Palm Processional" from our upcoming cantata (April 15), Benjamin Harlan's "Wondrous Love" (the movement combined "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" and the refrain from "The Holy City"). After our pastor guided us scripturally from the palms of Sunday to the Friday cries of "Crucify him!", we closed the service with "Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross."
Thursday we gathered again for Maundy Thursday communion, with our "informal service" music group (minus our lead singer, whose husband suffered a heart attack on Wednesday--doing well, praise God) singing "The Wonderful Cross" and our pianist providing exquisite communion musical meditation. The service ended with the hymn, "Go to Dark Gethsemane," as we did a ceremonial removal of Lenten purple and draped the communion table cross in black.
Our Good Friday was an evening service, so the sanctuary was fully draped in black. We have a very large central wooden cross on the front chancel wall, over which was displayed a black banner with a stark silver-gray outline of the suffering Savior in crown of thorns. It was visually stunning. We had diminished lighting and seven votive candles on the draped communion table, which were distinguished one by one during the final Scripture reading. Earlier readings were punctuated with several hymns, including "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" and "Jesus, Remember Me." The choir sang a dramatic piece by Don Besig and Nancy Price, "Within the Shadow of the Cross." The opening verse was done as a solo by a nearly ten-year-old girl, who sang absolutely perfectly (we were very proud of her; it was only her second time to sing a solo in public). The her solo's final phrase, "A little child, like me," which was echoed by the choir at the end of the piece: "A child of God, like you and me." The entire congregation filed out as we sang, "Were You There?" and gathered (shivering) on the sanctuary porch, where the pastor chained and padlocked the doors until Easter morning.
During the Easter Vigil, we offered a Catacombs service. The pastor and I were not actually in attendance, though we were able to listen at a distance. The simulation is that the church leaders had been arrested and all printed resources destroyed by "the authorities" who had declared Christian gatherings--and the faith itself--illegal. Those who attended this service had a combination of worship and discussion focused around how to keep the faith alive amidst persecution, when the only worship and study resources are the memories of the saints. We listened as the group of twenty or so people sang hymns of their own choosing ("Amazing Grace," "Jesus, Remember Me," "I Love to Tell the Story," and "Jesus Loves Me"), shared various memorized Scripture passages (including the 23rd Psalm and John 3:16-17), and recited the Apostles' Creed together. Testimonies were shared. There was excellent discussion about the difference between what Americans tend to call "persecution" and true persecution of faithful Christians. After 50 minutes, the "lookout" (pastor) gave a signal door knock to warn that the "patrols were on their way into town," and after closing with a prayer circle and ending with the Lord's Prayer, the group dispersed by ones and twos to return home.
I was still at church, working on final details for this morning's services, when the final scheduled on-site vigil prayer partner, a high school senior boy, finished his "shift" at midnight. He knocked at the office door to tell me he was leaving. I wished him a happy Easter and told him I'd see him later in the morning. He smiled as he realized it was technically a few minutes into Easter morning, and made my whole day by offering me the ancient greeting: "He is risen!" Of course, I replied, with joy in my heart, "He is risen indeed!"
Our liturgical dance group presented the sunrise service, which was once again reluctantly moved indoors because of our area's snow storm (no lie!) much of the day yesterday. It was near freezing this morning; in our part of Texas, that's not considered "outdoor weather." It is done entirely by school-age children and junior and senior high youth. They re-enact the entire passion and resurrection story in their unique combination of dance and American Sign Language. It is stunningly beautiful. As the Lord Jesus (one of my youth handbell ringers) was taken down from the cross and cradled by his mother (a high school girl), there was no one I could see who was not in tears. They perform to recorded music, which included
"Via Dolorosa," "At the Foot of the Cross," and "Was It a Morning Like this," among several other pieces.
We broke "new" ground with our informal group at the 9:00 service. We have had only piano/keyboard accompaniment until about a month ago, when a good guitarist joined us. Still, this means we don't have a complete rhythm section for the more energetic songs we do. Nevertheless, we presented a passable rendition of "My Redeemer Lives" this morning, greeted by more enthusiastic "Amens" than normal. People sang the chorus (many times) with gusto. (Though this is far from a favorite of mine, there's something to be said for people singing "My Redeemer lives! My redeemer lives!" with conviction.) At both the 9:00 and 10:45 services, the pastor preached on 1 Corinthians 15, focusing on "if" Christ had not been raised from the dead and looking at the reliable evidence passed on to us of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We were challenged both to believe the evidence we have received, and to testify to our own experience of the risen Christ in our own lives. Powerful!
At the late service, our handbell choir rang "Come Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain," which is one of the best efforts we've had all year. They also rang on the first hymn, "Christ the Lord is Risen Today." The children of the church, including several of the many young guests we welcomed today, sang "He Is Exalted" and did a superb job. I've "come around" on the appropriateness of "In the Garden" at Easter; this is our prayer hymn through the rest of April. The choir took it a little easy, given our scheduled cantata next week, and sang Hal Hopson's arrangement of a William Boyce work, which Hopson calls "Let the Praise Go 'Round" (actually, it consists of a three-part canon to the primary text of "Hallelujah," which made it very appropriate for Easter). We closed with one of my personal least-favorite Easter hymns, "He Lives," but here again, it's hard to argue with "He lives...you ask me how I know...he lives within my heart."
Bells. Children's voices. Piano. Keyboard and guitar. Choral music. Enthusiastic hymn singing (we ARE Methodist!). All in worship of the One who suffered, died, and rose from the dead, for us.
Christ is risen, indeed! Hallelujah!
This has been a blessed week. At every point, the week has been marked by powerful music. Here is a re-tracing of the steps we took together at my church.
Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! We sang "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" as our opening hymn on Palm/Passion Sunday while the children waved palm branches. The choir sang the "Palm Processional" from our upcoming cantata (April 15), Benjamin Harlan's "Wondrous Love" (the movement combined "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" and the refrain from "The Holy City"). After our pastor guided us scripturally from the palms of Sunday to the Friday cries of "Crucify him!", we closed the service with "Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross."
Thursday we gathered again for Maundy Thursday communion, with our "informal service" music group (minus our lead singer, whose husband suffered a heart attack on Wednesday--doing well, praise God) singing "The Wonderful Cross" and our pianist providing exquisite communion musical meditation. The service ended with the hymn, "Go to Dark Gethsemane," as we did a ceremonial removal of Lenten purple and draped the communion table cross in black.
Our Good Friday was an evening service, so the sanctuary was fully draped in black. We have a very large central wooden cross on the front chancel wall, over which was displayed a black banner with a stark silver-gray outline of the suffering Savior in crown of thorns. It was visually stunning. We had diminished lighting and seven votive candles on the draped communion table, which were distinguished one by one during the final Scripture reading. Earlier readings were punctuated with several hymns, including "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" and "Jesus, Remember Me." The choir sang a dramatic piece by Don Besig and Nancy Price, "Within the Shadow of the Cross." The opening verse was done as a solo by a nearly ten-year-old girl, who sang absolutely perfectly (we were very proud of her; it was only her second time to sing a solo in public). The her solo's final phrase, "A little child, like me," which was echoed by the choir at the end of the piece: "A child of God, like you and me." The entire congregation filed out as we sang, "Were You There?" and gathered (shivering) on the sanctuary porch, where the pastor chained and padlocked the doors until Easter morning.
During the Easter Vigil, we offered a Catacombs service. The pastor and I were not actually in attendance, though we were able to listen at a distance. The simulation is that the church leaders had been arrested and all printed resources destroyed by "the authorities" who had declared Christian gatherings--and the faith itself--illegal. Those who attended this service had a combination of worship and discussion focused around how to keep the faith alive amidst persecution, when the only worship and study resources are the memories of the saints. We listened as the group of twenty or so people sang hymns of their own choosing ("Amazing Grace," "Jesus, Remember Me," "I Love to Tell the Story," and "Jesus Loves Me"), shared various memorized Scripture passages (including the 23rd Psalm and John 3:16-17), and recited the Apostles' Creed together. Testimonies were shared. There was excellent discussion about the difference between what Americans tend to call "persecution" and true persecution of faithful Christians. After 50 minutes, the "lookout" (pastor) gave a signal door knock to warn that the "patrols were on their way into town," and after closing with a prayer circle and ending with the Lord's Prayer, the group dispersed by ones and twos to return home.
I was still at church, working on final details for this morning's services, when the final scheduled on-site vigil prayer partner, a high school senior boy, finished his "shift" at midnight. He knocked at the office door to tell me he was leaving. I wished him a happy Easter and told him I'd see him later in the morning. He smiled as he realized it was technically a few minutes into Easter morning, and made my whole day by offering me the ancient greeting: "He is risen!" Of course, I replied, with joy in my heart, "He is risen indeed!"
Our liturgical dance group presented the sunrise service, which was once again reluctantly moved indoors because of our area's snow storm (no lie!) much of the day yesterday. It was near freezing this morning; in our part of Texas, that's not considered "outdoor weather." It is done entirely by school-age children and junior and senior high youth. They re-enact the entire passion and resurrection story in their unique combination of dance and American Sign Language. It is stunningly beautiful. As the Lord Jesus (one of my youth handbell ringers) was taken down from the cross and cradled by his mother (a high school girl), there was no one I could see who was not in tears. They perform to recorded music, which included
"Via Dolorosa," "At the Foot of the Cross," and "Was It a Morning Like this," among several other pieces.
We broke "new" ground with our informal group at the 9:00 service. We have had only piano/keyboard accompaniment until about a month ago, when a good guitarist joined us. Still, this means we don't have a complete rhythm section for the more energetic songs we do. Nevertheless, we presented a passable rendition of "My Redeemer Lives" this morning, greeted by more enthusiastic "Amens" than normal. People sang the chorus (many times) with gusto. (Though this is far from a favorite of mine, there's something to be said for people singing "My Redeemer lives! My redeemer lives!" with conviction.) At both the 9:00 and 10:45 services, the pastor preached on 1 Corinthians 15, focusing on "if" Christ had not been raised from the dead and looking at the reliable evidence passed on to us of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We were challenged both to believe the evidence we have received, and to testify to our own experience of the risen Christ in our own lives. Powerful!
At the late service, our handbell choir rang "Come Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain," which is one of the best efforts we've had all year. They also rang on the first hymn, "Christ the Lord is Risen Today." The children of the church, including several of the many young guests we welcomed today, sang "He Is Exalted" and did a superb job. I've "come around" on the appropriateness of "In the Garden" at Easter; this is our prayer hymn through the rest of April. The choir took it a little easy, given our scheduled cantata next week, and sang Hal Hopson's arrangement of a William Boyce work, which Hopson calls "Let the Praise Go 'Round" (actually, it consists of a three-part canon to the primary text of "Hallelujah," which made it very appropriate for Easter). We closed with one of my personal least-favorite Easter hymns, "He Lives," but here again, it's hard to argue with "He lives...you ask me how I know...he lives within my heart."
Bells. Children's voices. Piano. Keyboard and guitar. Choral music. Enthusiastic hymn singing (we ARE Methodist!). All in worship of the One who suffered, died, and rose from the dead, for us.
Christ is risen, indeed! Hallelujah!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Attack of the Killer Musicians!
I am blessed to work with a pastor who's, by and large, a dream of a colleague. Please make no mistake: I am NOT prompted to write this entry because of any professional friction between the two of us.
What I have read and heard, too many times recently for my comfort, is cases of highly unprofessional behavior of church musicians toward the clergy who serve their churches. I won't get into the details of any one story, but trust me--they're not pretty. And don't get me wrong: I know there are some real Clergy-Kongs out there who neither respect nor behave professionally toward the musicians with whom they work. That's perhaps worth addressing, most effectively by clergy who are as fed up with Clergy-Kong stories as I am right now with Music-Zilla tales. So you Music-Zillas, if your egos will permit you to identify yourself in what follows, read and heed. And if you're trying your utmost to be the best church musician, staff member, Christian, and co-worker with your pastor that you can be, then this isn't about you; if you read it, remember it if you're ever tempted to make yourself the star of your own church music show.
I am Music-Zilla. I have the credentials to prove it. I am the resident expert in all things musical at my church, and I defy anyone, especially the pastor, to find fault with anything I do, musically or otherwise.
Do not forget that it is your great good fortune that I am here, wasting my great talent on this pitifully music-challenged church. You have neither the intellect nor the taste to adequately appreciate what I so generously share with you musical ignoramuses.
Since your tastes are so parochial, I alone am qualified to judge what pieces of music, styles, and genres are appropriate for this church. Any attempt to judge my decisions is simply proof that you have no musical taste.
You are only a clergyperson. You couldn't possibly understand or appreciate what it takes for a musician to do what a musician does. Do not presume to suggest that I have any need to study new music, methods of teaching or conducting, or expand my repertoire in any way. I was performing this repertoire long before you arrived here, and I'll still be performing it when you're long gone.
I alone have the discernment to know if I ought to practice more. At the pinnacle of my art as I am, it is difficult to imagine that there is much more I could possibly learn. Do not presume to suggest additional practice or continuing education on my part.
I don't (often) tell you how to preach your sermons. Don't you dare try to tell me how to choose hymns, choral and ensemble pieces, solos, or service music. Stop bowing down to the altar of "The music must fit the texts/theme of the service." Nobody cares or notices about that nonsense except you. In "Church Music," remember that "church" is only the adjective; the noun is "Music." You tend to your knitting, and I'll tend to mine.
Whatever it was they taught you at that high-steeple seminary, it sure wasn't how to work with musicians. It's not my job to educate you. I'm too busy doing what it is that I do. Treat me with the deference due any fine artist, and we ought to be able to get along when we must. Simply do not expect me to be impressed with your credentials. Do not hope to earn my respect. I am Music-Zilla. I am bigger than you. Or at least, my ego is.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
This 'n' That
I've been doing other things, and leaving things kind of hanging here at the Psaltery. So to catch myself up (along with the handful of you who keep tabs on this blog), here's what's up:
The piano debut was wonderful last Sunday! It happened on just the right day. We had a whole bunch of visitors (usually a few, but way more than the norm). The sermon was even better than our pastor's usual excellent preaching. (She preached from the Epistle lesson on what it means in the larger church to be the body of Christ and what she sees as our unique strengths as a congregation and a denomination within that body.) Despite our having had no final rehearsal during the week, due to our ice storm, the choir did a very good job with the anthem. We had a couple join the congregation.
And the piano! Dear Sister Pianist can actually play the piano, piano now! (Musical pun: "piano" means "softly," something it was nearly impossible to do with our old piano anymore.) It sounded fabulous loud, too! She played her already-chosen service music, which turned out to be a great variety of style and technique. The hymn accompaniments were great as well. And after the service, both she and one of our oldest members, who is completely "unschooled" but plays the most remarkable jazz-style piano I've ever heard, gave an impromptu demonstration recital. People did not want to leave.
I even did something completely out of character for me. Sister Pianist hadn't yet heard the instrument played in the sanctuary; it's so different to hear an instrument sitting "out in the space" than while one is playing it. After our early service, I asked her if she wanted to. She said she really would, so after a proper warning, I played one of the few things I knew I could get through (a Bach prelude). For the umpteenth time, she cried (and I don't think mainly from how poorly I executed the little piece). She said it's been a week of tears of joy over this wonderful gift.
During the choir's prayer time at the end of this week's rehearsal, I heard such wonderful perspectives on it. God worked this out for us. People's hearts are in the right place. This has never been one of those churches that considers itself the pinnacle of musical performance, but nothing about this project has even hinted at pride. They seem to agree with me, that the piano is a high-quality tool for the ministry that is worship. In worship, we encounter God and are equipped to go out and help others encounter God. Our old piano was a distraction from the encounter. The new one permits Sister Pianist to help us all make the best music we can.
So...on to other things. The new car saga still isn't over, and I'm still compiling a doozy of a letter to the owner of the dealership, to which I will allow him time to respond before I contact the Better Business Bureau and the state Attorney General. I am absolutely disgusted over the whole thing. I'm now on my third lending agreement, which is not yet final. After I got a call last weekend telling me financing was being redone to the tune of $100 less per month, I went in as scheduled. The guy who'd called me wasn't in; no one knew where he was. Instead, his boss presented me with paperwork for $15 MORE per month, got outrageously condescending with me when I protested, and still had no more satisfying answer than, "Oh, I think [missing call who called me] was just calling the wrong person. I know I do that at least once a day." He called the wrong person, all right...the person who will actually do something about this ridiculously bad business. As for thinking he was talking to a different person, HE called ME, asked for me by my name, at my phone number, so I don't think so. The problem is, after very reluctantly signing the papers (it was either that or give them the car back and walk home), I called him at the dealership the next day. He still insisted he had a much better deal for me, and to let him call me back. I gave him 2 days, and no call. Called again, left a message that I was calling back. Still no call. In the meantime, another gent got involved and said HE'D call me back about the fact that they STILL--now three weeks later--have not picked up my old car. They have the signed-over title, so it's no longer mine, but it's still sitting in my reserved parking place. (I'm about to call the complex's towing service, since it's parked illegally. But that would be spiteful, so I'm restraining myself.) HE didn't call me back, either.
What has me the angriest, though, is what I finally found out about why there's such a run-around on the loan. My day job is a temp-to-hire position. I'd just begun that assignment when the old car broke down and I went into the dealership. I was very up-front about it. I suspected they'd turn me down because of it; I'm not that naive. But they've decided their niche in the market is "we approve everyone." Well, on the second loan thing, I got a call from a representative of the lender. I wasn't expecting this--the wonderful, now-fired salesman never told me to expect it--but no problem, I took the call and answered his questions. One of these was, "Are you working as a temp?" I told him I was, and the timeline on which I expect to be hired permanently. I asked if this was problematic, and he said absolutely not, to enjoy my new car and to look for the payment coupon book in the mail shortly. So I REALLY was unprepared when I went in and found out they'd supposedly rejected the financing agreement because of my working as a temp. The financing boss-guy who dropped the $115 more per month bombshell on me told me, point-blank, I was not allowed to tell anyone from any lender that I'm a temp, at least not if I want to keep the car. His exact words were, "If your honesty is more important to you than keeping the car, tell them whatever you want to. But if you want to stay in the car, you cannot say you're a temp." He was not happy when I replied that just as with the previous lender, if I'm asked, I will not lie. But I won't. Yes, my integrity IS more important to me than staying in a car I didn't especially want in the first place, which is turning out to be horribly more expensive than I should prudently try to afford. (I *can* afford it, especially when the job becomes permanent, but that's a dangerous thing for a temp to count on. And it's now over $100 more per month than what I pay in rent! There's something VERY wrong with that picture.) Most of all, I hate that I allowed the circumstances to suck me into agreeing to anything with this bunch of arrogant, condescending, lying young thieves who can't be bothered to even return my phone calls.
Meanwhile, I've been suffering from a rotten head cold with a pounding sinus headache. At long last, however, I've received my separation paperwork copies (only 4 months after I requested it!), so now I can finally make an appointment with the VA clinic and maybe get a bunch of stuff taken care of. By then, the cold will be history. It's good to know, though, that in the event of a serious illness, I won't be forced into bankruptcy because of the medical bills. I continue to pray for my fellow uninsured Americans who don't have the saftety net of the VA or something similar. VA care isn't free, but it's very affordable. It was good to have today completely off, so I could rest and take OTC stuff to help things drain. Am I ever going to sound like a frog in the morning!
Speaking of which, I'd better stop blogging and start sleeping. 5:30 comes mighty early on Sundays!
Blessings to all you dear readers, and may you in turn be used by God to bless the world.
The piano debut was wonderful last Sunday! It happened on just the right day. We had a whole bunch of visitors (usually a few, but way more than the norm). The sermon was even better than our pastor's usual excellent preaching. (She preached from the Epistle lesson on what it means in the larger church to be the body of Christ and what she sees as our unique strengths as a congregation and a denomination within that body.) Despite our having had no final rehearsal during the week, due to our ice storm, the choir did a very good job with the anthem. We had a couple join the congregation.
And the piano! Dear Sister Pianist can actually play the piano, piano now! (Musical pun: "piano" means "softly," something it was nearly impossible to do with our old piano anymore.) It sounded fabulous loud, too! She played her already-chosen service music, which turned out to be a great variety of style and technique. The hymn accompaniments were great as well. And after the service, both she and one of our oldest members, who is completely "unschooled" but plays the most remarkable jazz-style piano I've ever heard, gave an impromptu demonstration recital. People did not want to leave.
I even did something completely out of character for me. Sister Pianist hadn't yet heard the instrument played in the sanctuary; it's so different to hear an instrument sitting "out in the space" than while one is playing it. After our early service, I asked her if she wanted to. She said she really would, so after a proper warning, I played one of the few things I knew I could get through (a Bach prelude). For the umpteenth time, she cried (and I don't think mainly from how poorly I executed the little piece). She said it's been a week of tears of joy over this wonderful gift.
During the choir's prayer time at the end of this week's rehearsal, I heard such wonderful perspectives on it. God worked this out for us. People's hearts are in the right place. This has never been one of those churches that considers itself the pinnacle of musical performance, but nothing about this project has even hinted at pride. They seem to agree with me, that the piano is a high-quality tool for the ministry that is worship. In worship, we encounter God and are equipped to go out and help others encounter God. Our old piano was a distraction from the encounter. The new one permits Sister Pianist to help us all make the best music we can.
So...on to other things. The new car saga still isn't over, and I'm still compiling a doozy of a letter to the owner of the dealership, to which I will allow him time to respond before I contact the Better Business Bureau and the state Attorney General. I am absolutely disgusted over the whole thing. I'm now on my third lending agreement, which is not yet final. After I got a call last weekend telling me financing was being redone to the tune of $100 less per month, I went in as scheduled. The guy who'd called me wasn't in; no one knew where he was. Instead, his boss presented me with paperwork for $15 MORE per month, got outrageously condescending with me when I protested, and still had no more satisfying answer than, "Oh, I think [missing call who called me] was just calling the wrong person. I know I do that at least once a day." He called the wrong person, all right...the person who will actually do something about this ridiculously bad business. As for thinking he was talking to a different person, HE called ME, asked for me by my name, at my phone number, so I don't think so. The problem is, after very reluctantly signing the papers (it was either that or give them the car back and walk home), I called him at the dealership the next day. He still insisted he had a much better deal for me, and to let him call me back. I gave him 2 days, and no call. Called again, left a message that I was calling back. Still no call. In the meantime, another gent got involved and said HE'D call me back about the fact that they STILL--now three weeks later--have not picked up my old car. They have the signed-over title, so it's no longer mine, but it's still sitting in my reserved parking place. (I'm about to call the complex's towing service, since it's parked illegally. But that would be spiteful, so I'm restraining myself.) HE didn't call me back, either.
What has me the angriest, though, is what I finally found out about why there's such a run-around on the loan. My day job is a temp-to-hire position. I'd just begun that assignment when the old car broke down and I went into the dealership. I was very up-front about it. I suspected they'd turn me down because of it; I'm not that naive. But they've decided their niche in the market is "we approve everyone." Well, on the second loan thing, I got a call from a representative of the lender. I wasn't expecting this--the wonderful, now-fired salesman never told me to expect it--but no problem, I took the call and answered his questions. One of these was, "Are you working as a temp?" I told him I was, and the timeline on which I expect to be hired permanently. I asked if this was problematic, and he said absolutely not, to enjoy my new car and to look for the payment coupon book in the mail shortly. So I REALLY was unprepared when I went in and found out they'd supposedly rejected the financing agreement because of my working as a temp. The financing boss-guy who dropped the $115 more per month bombshell on me told me, point-blank, I was not allowed to tell anyone from any lender that I'm a temp, at least not if I want to keep the car. His exact words were, "If your honesty is more important to you than keeping the car, tell them whatever you want to. But if you want to stay in the car, you cannot say you're a temp." He was not happy when I replied that just as with the previous lender, if I'm asked, I will not lie. But I won't. Yes, my integrity IS more important to me than staying in a car I didn't especially want in the first place, which is turning out to be horribly more expensive than I should prudently try to afford. (I *can* afford it, especially when the job becomes permanent, but that's a dangerous thing for a temp to count on. And it's now over $100 more per month than what I pay in rent! There's something VERY wrong with that picture.) Most of all, I hate that I allowed the circumstances to suck me into agreeing to anything with this bunch of arrogant, condescending, lying young thieves who can't be bothered to even return my phone calls.
Meanwhile, I've been suffering from a rotten head cold with a pounding sinus headache. At long last, however, I've received my separation paperwork copies (only 4 months after I requested it!), so now I can finally make an appointment with the VA clinic and maybe get a bunch of stuff taken care of. By then, the cold will be history. It's good to know, though, that in the event of a serious illness, I won't be forced into bankruptcy because of the medical bills. I continue to pray for my fellow uninsured Americans who don't have the saftety net of the VA or something similar. VA care isn't free, but it's very affordable. It was good to have today completely off, so I could rest and take OTC stuff to help things drain. Am I ever going to sound like a frog in the morning!
Speaking of which, I'd better stop blogging and start sleeping. 5:30 comes mighty early on Sundays!
Blessings to all you dear readers, and may you in turn be used by God to bless the world.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
It's HERE! Our new piano; on praying musically
This is it...the online catalog image of the exact model of piano that was given to our congregation this week (for those in the piano know, it's a Kawai RX-3, 6'1" professional grand piano). I played it last night, and I was entranced. (Not that I'm a pianist...far from it! But I can play enough to test-drive it.) It sounds the way a piano ought to sound in a church sanctuary. There's a wide dynamic range. It sounds full and rich in the bass and delicately glorious in the high treble. Just...well, wonderful, and about as perfect as a human-made instrument can sound.There's just something holy about being alone in a dark sanctuary with a good musical instrument, praying musically, that brings a musician closer to God. And that includes singing, at least for me, since that's the instrument I'm most trained on and for which I have the most natural talent. But the combining of sound and the heritage of our faith's expression (in Scripture and hymnody) is unlike anything else for me. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to pray in this way.
In the words with which we will close the first hymn on the Sunday we dedicate this wonderful new gift,
Let every instrument be tuned for praise!
Let all rejoice who have a voice to raise!
And may God give us faith to sing always
Alleluia!
(from When in Our Music God Is Glorified, text by Fred Pratt Green)
Saturday, January 13, 2007
This 'n' That
Well, as I sit here at the start of one of our famed ice storms (we get a couple of these per winter), I thought I'd blog a bit about some things that have occurred in the past month or so. The Advent and Christmas blogging was fun, but I didn't get in much from "life as I know it" here in my little corner of the world.
One incident from late Advent still warms my heart. It happened during our annual Children's Christmas Program. The pastor asked for two things: base it on teaching the children familiar Christmas carols (because they don't learn them in school anymore), and let the pageant part of it be a simple "bathrobe pageant." Well, I honored the first request, but given the state of children's bathrobes these days, went with the church's costumes instead.
For reasons I won't get into here, my school-age children were all angels (the girls) and dual-duty shepherds and "wise guys" (the boys and my one adult male helper). Our adult female helper was the narrator. The pre-school children, of whom I have very few, were Mary, Joseph, and shepherds. Our Mary was our only regularly-attending little girl, and she is a doll caretaker extraordinaire! Only that morning in worship, she'd seen her school-age sisters as angels, and a high school senior girl as Mary. She was so excited that we used the same manger and stable and "baby Jesus" (doll) as the "big kids." Our little Joseph was a trouper. Mary alternated between "loving on" the doll (Texas term, I'm sure you get it) and gazing adoringly at it once she'd laid it back down in the manger, and Joseph would sit for a while, then stand for a while, mostly gazing (rather sternly) at the manger or at the doll in Mary's arms. But the youngest child in the pageant went into meltdown. He was Joseph's younger brother, the cutest shepherd I've ever seen. But as his preschool group stood in front of the school-age group, singing "Star Child," he started to cry. Narrator and "senior wise guy" couldn't get to him easily. Mom and Dad were halfway back in the sanctuary. So I, being only a few steps away directing, scooted on up to him and picked him up. He cried on my shoulder until Mom got to him.
You have to understand: I have no children and was not enough older than my two twin brothers to have ever had much child comforting in my past. This is one of those rare, precious moments when a child has trusted me for comfort. I hate that he was distressed. But I'm so grateful to have been able to offer comfort to him. Really, there's nothing like a barely-three-year-old snuggling against you, trusting that you love him. Oh, yes, little T., I do love you! (still misting up, thinking about this!)
Now, to totally shift gears here, I have had a convergence of good stuff, not so good stuff very recently. The end of December, I gave two weeks' notice on a three-month temp assignment in order to accept a temp-to-hire assignment for much better money and for a dream combination of skills. (It's going very, VERY well, btw.) The night after the first day on the job, I went down to the church (in a neighboring town) and headed home very late. Only a few miles into the trip, the car gave both an electical system warning and hit the danger zone on the temp gauge. I pulled over and let it cool down. Started up again, and the electrical light stayed on. When it started getting too hot again, I pulled over. Finally after a couple more stop-and-go legs on this odyssey, I was at a convenience store. When all cooled down again, I checked all the fluid levels, added water and antifreeze and a quart of oil, and finally made it home. There's really no one near home for me to call, so I limped the car to work; it did OK. But on the way to a shop after work--this was a week ago Friday--it conked out completely. I called my trusty towing guy and after over TWO HOURS (busy night), he picked it up and towed me home. There was NO MONEY to repair the poor ten-year-old thing. This happened at the WORST time!
So the next day, I started researching some options. I was about to be making the best money I've ever made, but after just two days on the new job (and starting out as temp there to boot), I didn't make a good "risk" on buying another car. Plus, all I had to put down was the poor disabled trade-in. I had the TV on for "background noise," and finally realized one of those annoying car sales infomercials was on. It was for a dealer near me, promising no matter what car you want (new Suzukis, or other makes of pre-owned), for as low as $88 per month, they'd put you in a car. If you were one of their first 30 callers, you got an extra $1K over book value on your trade or $500 pocket/extra for down payment. That latter, I was sure counting on. It was either them or a prominent pre-owned "we finance" place within walking distance, so I called to prequalify, then went to the dealership. They didn't know a thing about the "first 30 caller" thing but assured me the dealership would take care of that. I was looking for a 2-3 year old car, perhaps a Honda or Toyota. The ONLY car they'd sell me, after hours there, was an '07 Forenza, for an outrageously high monthly payment. And nobody still had any answers about the "first 30 caller" issue. Never got it. I asked about the "we'll put you in the car you want." The clueless salesman said that was what the bank would qualify me for. Essentially it was take it or leave it. And here we were, now dark out, and me nearly a mile from home without a car.
I'd been praying, hard, ever since the car started acting up, that God would help me work all this out. I could NOT lose the new job due to car woes. I very reluctantly agreed to the only deal I could seem to get. To add insult to injury, the income verification documents I took in Monday at lunch, didn't fly. (I was up-front with the salesman and the finance manager about the job being temporary at this point, and they assured me there was no problem.) Finally, the next day I had to go back in AGAIN, I thought to get the 2007 books (they'd given me 2006) and my spare key. Nope. Without my knowledge or approval, they'd abandoned the financing they'd put together on Saturday and went with a different bank, which ended up being for two percentage points higher interest and which raised my already high payments nearly $20 per month. Again, it was "take it or leave it." They'd taken my title to the old car on Saturday, so I didn't even have the old car to fall back on once I could get it fixed. (It's STILL parked here, by the way, in MY RESERVED SPOT! GRRR...) So once again, if I was going to have a way home, it was a matter of agreeing to their shenanigans.
The sad thing is, it's a nice enough car. It feels comfortable and drives well...much more power than any car I've ever owned before. And in the long run, other than the terribly high price, it will be good to have a car under warranty. This dealership offers free loaner cars if any warranty-covered work is done--that is, if they're telling the truth about THAT. But DANG! This was a horrible experience. I know everybody stresses out to some degree when buying a new car. But I was stuck with more car than I wanted, for a whole lot more money than I have, and all based on a part-time church job and a day job that, for the next two months and three weeks, is a temporary assignment. God and I have been talking, let me assure you! Mostly my saying "You've GOT to help me keep this job!" and God communicating "Trust me" at every yelping turn.
But really, isn't that where we all are, at the heart of it? We're all sustained by God's providence, no matter how cushioned from that awareness our relative wealth may make us (you know, things like having clean water, a roof over our heads, transportation, a living wage...the things that the majority of the world's people either lack entirely or struggle to provide). I *am* a grateful woman, though I am not grateful for the deceptive practices of the car dealership. About that, I intend to communicate my complaints. I've had a week to "sleep on" my experiences, and I even re-watched today's airing of the same infomercial, just to be sure I was accurate in my letter.
So...that's the latest stress in the life of Psalmist. Thanks for reading my stuff. Oh, and happy 2007 to everyone!
One incident from late Advent still warms my heart. It happened during our annual Children's Christmas Program. The pastor asked for two things: base it on teaching the children familiar Christmas carols (because they don't learn them in school anymore), and let the pageant part of it be a simple "bathrobe pageant." Well, I honored the first request, but given the state of children's bathrobes these days, went with the church's costumes instead.
For reasons I won't get into here, my school-age children were all angels (the girls) and dual-duty shepherds and "wise guys" (the boys and my one adult male helper). Our adult female helper was the narrator. The pre-school children, of whom I have very few, were Mary, Joseph, and shepherds. Our Mary was our only regularly-attending little girl, and she is a doll caretaker extraordinaire! Only that morning in worship, she'd seen her school-age sisters as angels, and a high school senior girl as Mary. She was so excited that we used the same manger and stable and "baby Jesus" (doll) as the "big kids." Our little Joseph was a trouper. Mary alternated between "loving on" the doll (Texas term, I'm sure you get it) and gazing adoringly at it once she'd laid it back down in the manger, and Joseph would sit for a while, then stand for a while, mostly gazing (rather sternly) at the manger or at the doll in Mary's arms. But the youngest child in the pageant went into meltdown. He was Joseph's younger brother, the cutest shepherd I've ever seen. But as his preschool group stood in front of the school-age group, singing "Star Child," he started to cry. Narrator and "senior wise guy" couldn't get to him easily. Mom and Dad were halfway back in the sanctuary. So I, being only a few steps away directing, scooted on up to him and picked him up. He cried on my shoulder until Mom got to him.
You have to understand: I have no children and was not enough older than my two twin brothers to have ever had much child comforting in my past. This is one of those rare, precious moments when a child has trusted me for comfort. I hate that he was distressed. But I'm so grateful to have been able to offer comfort to him. Really, there's nothing like a barely-three-year-old snuggling against you, trusting that you love him. Oh, yes, little T., I do love you! (still misting up, thinking about this!)
Now, to totally shift gears here, I have had a convergence of good stuff, not so good stuff very recently. The end of December, I gave two weeks' notice on a three-month temp assignment in order to accept a temp-to-hire assignment for much better money and for a dream combination of skills. (It's going very, VERY well, btw.) The night after the first day on the job, I went down to the church (in a neighboring town) and headed home very late. Only a few miles into the trip, the car gave both an electical system warning and hit the danger zone on the temp gauge. I pulled over and let it cool down. Started up again, and the electrical light stayed on. When it started getting too hot again, I pulled over. Finally after a couple more stop-and-go legs on this odyssey, I was at a convenience store. When all cooled down again, I checked all the fluid levels, added water and antifreeze and a quart of oil, and finally made it home. There's really no one near home for me to call, so I limped the car to work; it did OK. But on the way to a shop after work--this was a week ago Friday--it conked out completely. I called my trusty towing guy and after over TWO HOURS (busy night), he picked it up and towed me home. There was NO MONEY to repair the poor ten-year-old thing. This happened at the WORST time!
So the next day, I started researching some options. I was about to be making the best money I've ever made, but after just two days on the new job (and starting out as temp there to boot), I didn't make a good "risk" on buying another car. Plus, all I had to put down was the poor disabled trade-in. I had the TV on for "background noise," and finally realized one of those annoying car sales infomercials was on. It was for a dealer near me, promising no matter what car you want (new Suzukis, or other makes of pre-owned), for as low as $88 per month, they'd put you in a car. If you were one of their first 30 callers, you got an extra $1K over book value on your trade or $500 pocket/extra for down payment. That latter, I was sure counting on. It was either them or a prominent pre-owned "we finance" place within walking distance, so I called to prequalify, then went to the dealership. They didn't know a thing about the "first 30 caller" thing but assured me the dealership would take care of that. I was looking for a 2-3 year old car, perhaps a Honda or Toyota. The ONLY car they'd sell me, after hours there, was an '07 Forenza, for an outrageously high monthly payment. And nobody still had any answers about the "first 30 caller" issue. Never got it. I asked about the "we'll put you in the car you want." The clueless salesman said that was what the bank would qualify me for. Essentially it was take it or leave it. And here we were, now dark out, and me nearly a mile from home without a car.
I'd been praying, hard, ever since the car started acting up, that God would help me work all this out. I could NOT lose the new job due to car woes. I very reluctantly agreed to the only deal I could seem to get. To add insult to injury, the income verification documents I took in Monday at lunch, didn't fly. (I was up-front with the salesman and the finance manager about the job being temporary at this point, and they assured me there was no problem.) Finally, the next day I had to go back in AGAIN, I thought to get the 2007 books (they'd given me 2006) and my spare key. Nope. Without my knowledge or approval, they'd abandoned the financing they'd put together on Saturday and went with a different bank, which ended up being for two percentage points higher interest and which raised my already high payments nearly $20 per month. Again, it was "take it or leave it." They'd taken my title to the old car on Saturday, so I didn't even have the old car to fall back on once I could get it fixed. (It's STILL parked here, by the way, in MY RESERVED SPOT! GRRR...) So once again, if I was going to have a way home, it was a matter of agreeing to their shenanigans.
The sad thing is, it's a nice enough car. It feels comfortable and drives well...much more power than any car I've ever owned before. And in the long run, other than the terribly high price, it will be good to have a car under warranty. This dealership offers free loaner cars if any warranty-covered work is done--that is, if they're telling the truth about THAT. But DANG! This was a horrible experience. I know everybody stresses out to some degree when buying a new car. But I was stuck with more car than I wanted, for a whole lot more money than I have, and all based on a part-time church job and a day job that, for the next two months and three weeks, is a temporary assignment. God and I have been talking, let me assure you! Mostly my saying "You've GOT to help me keep this job!" and God communicating "Trust me" at every yelping turn.
But really, isn't that where we all are, at the heart of it? We're all sustained by God's providence, no matter how cushioned from that awareness our relative wealth may make us (you know, things like having clean water, a roof over our heads, transportation, a living wage...the things that the majority of the world's people either lack entirely or struggle to provide). I *am* a grateful woman, though I am not grateful for the deceptive practices of the car dealership. About that, I intend to communicate my complaints. I've had a week to "sleep on" my experiences, and I even re-watched today's airing of the same infomercial, just to be sure I was accurate in my letter.
So...that's the latest stress in the life of Psalmist. Thanks for reading my stuff. Oh, and happy 2007 to everyone!
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