Update – and a Confession

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“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” – Matthew 5:7 (Jesus)

It’s been a busy, fun, and interesting few weeks. The last two weeks of May I was with my sister Susie out West, having our annual “sisterly adventure” – a couple of days at her house in Scottsdale, Arizona, then eight days on the road in her motor home, exploring New Mexico and Colorado, meeting some fascinating people from all over the country (and one from Sweden), and taking long soaks in various hot mineral springs, with a few hikes in between. Then we spent another day or two at her house before flying home.

I returned to Louisville just in time to see my second granddaughter “graduate” from grade school in (for me) a very emotional ceremony. I was so proud of her as she gave her speech, and I was brought to tears as the students all sang “The Blessing” to their parents right before giving carnations to their moms. As they stood singing, I could see my granddaughter’s hands signing the song behind the kid in front of her. She and I had learned almost the whole song in sign language earlier that month, and I was touched that she wanted to sign the words, even if most of the congregation didn’t see her doing it.

Next on the schedule was a weekend family reunion, hosted by my cousin Owen and his wife. Saturday night’s event was at their home just a few blocks from our house and was supposed to feature a “talent show.” I had persuaded our daughter Joanna to sing “The Happy Wanderer” with me in honor of Susie, who couldn’t make it. (That song epitomizes Susie’s spirit of adventure.) I expected that if we started singing it, Owen would join us, yodeling for the chorus, as he had often done before. So, I tuned my guitar and carried it up the road to the party.

As it turned out, there were several men at the gathering who also played guitar, all of them Owen’s wife’s relatives, whom I didn’t know well. Before most of us had finished eating, these musicians were jamming together; it sounded like something they did often. One of the children came up to me at the dinner table and asked if one of the men could play my guitar. I thought, Why not? and said, “Sure.”

A few minutes later, I was notified that said musician had broken one of the strings while trying to tune my guitar. I guessed immediately what had happened.

When I went to talk to him, the man explained that he was trying to get my guitar in tune. I explained to him that 12-string guitars are always tuned a whole step lower than 6-string guitars. Surprised, he asked why. Now in full teacher mode, I explained that to lessen the strain on the neck, the guitar is tuned lower, and a capo is used when playing with 6-string guitars.

He said, “Sorry.”

I told him, “These things happen,” and that he was not the first to try to “tune my guitar for me.” As it turned out, it was still playable. In fact, if I could have picked one string to lose, it would have been that one, as it was least involved in my more intricate picking patterns.

As it also turned out, the “talent show” never quite happened. The jamming went on into the evening, and it was fun to hear. Also, while they were jamming, I was able to get acquainted with a 13-year-old cousin-in-law-twice-removed (or something). This was, in fact, more fun than “performing,” because I found that she was a young version of ME! – an animated, talkative, singing, guitar-playing, novel-writing, theater-loving young lady – named Annie, no less! So, it was a delightful evening, although not what I had expected.

The next day I was adding “Buy new strings” to my to-do list, realizing my guitar was way overdue for new strings anyway, and yes, it was all good. As I looked up the local guitar store, I randomly remembered the time I’d been performing a song with some of my best picking, and a teenaged boy had told me that 12-string guitars are for strumming, not picking. (Men.) I was momentarily struck with a twinge of irritation at men who thought they knew more about my guitar than I did, when something (or SomeONE) brought to mind a recent memory …

Flashback: Susie and I were getting cleaned up at her house after a day in the desert, and I had finished first. As I waited for her, I spotted her harp sitting in the corner. I said something about it to LeeAnn, Susie’s sometimes-tenant, who commented that she hadn’t heard Susie play it lately.

“I guess she hasn’t,” I opined, plucking at the strings. “It’s really out of tune.” I was itching to play it, so I got the tuning instrument and adjusted a couple of strings …

When Susie came out and saw what I was doing, she gently reminded me that her harp was tuned in the key of D, not C, which explained why several strings were not tuned to the “right” notes …

That’s right, folks. Less than two weeks before my cousin’s wife’s relative took the liberty of tuning my guitar, I did the same thing with Susie’s harp. … Well, almost the same thing, the difference being that the man at the party had asked permission to play my guitar.

In that forehead-slapping moment of realization, I was SO glad I had been nice about the broken string!

Update: Today I’m playing my 12-string guitar with brand-new strings on it, and it sounds wonderful.

Prayer: Lord, thanks for the reminder that it’s always good to conduct ourselves “in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,” even when we don’t feel like it or understand why. I realize there are often things I’m not aware of – or don’t remember, so help me always to remember to be kind, because I need mercy, too. In Your name, amen.

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Published by seekingdivineperspective

I am a forgiven sinner and adopted child of God, seeking to see life from His perspective - as opposed to the world's flawed perspective - and living my life accordingly.

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40 thoughts on “Update – and a Confession”

  4. I enjoyed this. Thank you, Annie, for being so real. The next time you visit New Mexico, I would love to meet you in Albuquerque, or wherever you plan to be. I couldn’t do it this time, because my husband has been sick since 2 days after Easter and I needed to stay close by. He is finally doing better, thank the Lord. ❤

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  6. LOL! I just love when the Holy Spirit does things like that to me. Grace is very reflective, like a mirror! I used to have a pastor who would point at us and say, “now see the other 3 fingers on my hand pointing right back at me? That is by design!” It’s not condemnation either, but good news, a celebration of sorts! We are patient with others because God has first been patient with us. We love because He first loved us. 🙂

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  8. The story of the harp brought a memory flash: in one of my classes many years ago, a guy whose English was very limited brought his harp to our end-of-semester party. Man, could he play! My secretary and a couple of others came to the classroom door and peered in; I was afraid that we were too loud, but they just wanted to see the harp player and experience the beautiful music close up!

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    1. It IS a beautiful instrument. My husband got me one for our anniversary many years ago. I learned to play it and have played for several weddings. It was also small enough that I could take it to the hospital to sing to the patients.
      It bothers me a little when people say with some disdain that heaven isn’t going to be some boring place where we’re playing harps. I understand what they mean, but I actually love to play mine, especially since that special summer …

      The Summer of the Harp (Boundaries, Part 2)

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  17. Wonderful post. Thanks for sharing the “reality check”. Whether we admit it or not, we’ve ALL have had our own reality checks. Always a good time see how fallible we are – lol. Harp music is enjoyable to me.

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  18. Small correction, that harp is meant to be tuned in E flat, the smaller harp is meant mostly for C, but I usually tuned it in D to go with most of the Band songs😁

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  19. This story beautifully reminds us to approach life with kindness and understanding. The lessons learned from both the broken guitar string and the out-of-tune harp are profound. It’s a great reminder that we all make mistakes, and showing mercy and patience goes a long way. Truly a testament to the power of treating others as we’d like to be treated. Thank you for sharing this touching experience.

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