I love music! I have since I was a little girl. Singing along to my parent's LPs of the Beach Boys or Peter, Paul & Mary, my ears and vocal chords have been trained to pick out harmonies, to match cadence and to blend well with others from a very young age.
Since I have graduated from college, I have added a few instruments to my musical endeavors. You may have seen the photo of my hand drumming in
an earlier post, or a photo of my
sweet twelve-string which I have used to lead worship for two and a half years. Despite my love for music, walking in to an instrument store used to depress me.
Oh I loved the instruments and the shine and the sounds, but I was always held back by something. I couldn't see myself playing these great works of craftsmanship. As far as I was concerned, the precious instruments were always meant for somebody else, someone who had more time, more talent, more money to spend. I would never even look at the instruments that were at eye level, only those close to the floor or on the clearance rack. That's what I allowed myself to touch.
