Here is the second assignment I submitted to my writing class. So enjoying it. It’s wonderful to be a part of a group of ladies who are interesting, incredibly creative, responsive and thought-provoking. They are inspiring me!


 Our band had been together for quite a few years before that summer tore us apart. Not a complete fissure…only a gaping hole that our brother, the lead singer and guitar player, left in his angry wake. He didn’t leave alone. He took pieces of our hearts with him. We desperately tried to assure ourselves that we could manage. We had obligations, after all, a tight two week schedule in Colorado. People were counting on us. Dates were set. If we could get through this tour, we could go on. We could manage.

Strings broke, instruments refused to tune, emotions raged and exhausted us. So many questions that needed answers….only we didn’t have the answers. We didn’t understand. We were wounded and those wounds were raw.

 People were kind. They encouraged and supported us. They loved us and we needed love.

 We had endured five of the seven events on the calendar, and the finish was in sight. I was weeding a flowerbed the afternoon before a concert in a town about an hour and a half away. The warm golden sunlight refreshed and revitalized. I mindlessly reached down to yank a weed and seconds later my hand was on fire. Stinging nettle. How could I have been so careless? I knew better than that. Blisters formed as my fingers swelled. Really? I needed this too?

 I tried to play my fiddle while we were setting up, but my swollen fingers didn’t bend the way they should. And they hurt. I’ll never forget the warmth of my friend’s hand as he held mine and prayed that God would touch and heal and take away the pain. That prayer was answered. Just as we made our way to the stage the pain subsided…and the swelling didn’t once inhibit my playing. My benumbed heart was grateful…but dull.

 The next night we had our last concert in the park. All day we debated moving it inside. The wind was gusty and clouds lurked in the corners of the mountain framed sky. The community wanted the concert. In the park.

 We set up in the wind and we played in the wind. Gusty breezes that beat us and whistled through our microphones at the same time sucking the song out of my wooden flute.

 I looked toward the hills and saw snow on the peaks…and dark clouds heavy with moistness heading in our direction. Something inside of me snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. Silently, my soul cried out…”Father!!! We are doing this for YOU…why are you doing this to us?!?!”

 As swiftly as the wind-swirled snowflakes fell, my despair and anger and hurt disappeared. Suddenly I was filled with complete, unreserved, undeserved peace. I knew deep in my soul, that God was with us, even in the storms and hurts and trials, He is with us. He is drawing us close, and loving us, even when we can’t feel or understand. And that assurance that He will never forsake us…is enough.


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