DreamCentered
I've spent so much time investing prayer, thought, action into a dream that's plagued me since childhood. These days, I just want to quit. I've learned so much, been hurt so badly and disillusioned so often. I've been told it's "not my job". I'm "doing enough". I'm "not cut out for that work."Even that I have "no idea" what sort of predicament I'd be putting myself in.
I remember this girl, barely a teenager, wearing "I love New York" earring because of her prayers and burning passion for the inner city homeless in New York City. I remember that same girl sitting on the subway train in New York City and praying for the abandoned and "For Sale" buildings she passed in New York…that somehow, some way God would give this girl one of those or put her in one of those for the ministry dream she had. Prayers…they change me, always.
I remember the dreams I'd awaken from of revival, of rooms in a building I'd never seen full of music and warmth and laughter and hope. I remember walking a street in the Philippines and viewing the tragedy and poverty in those streets and telling the friends I was with that I wasn't called back there that I was called to the devastation in my own country….that I must somehow bring light to the blinded eyes of those in poverty and addiction.
I remember a star-crossed lover begging her fiancee to pick up a homeless one-legged man on the way to Galena just so we could cancel our day trip and drive him all the way back to Rockford while he told us stories of the hard life he willfully lived. All the while enduring his stench and wrestling with a bit of fear over the whole episode. His mentality changed me. I remember how angry my fiancee was at me for insisting on that. He brought it up even years later. He didn't understand. Come to think of it, nobody ever seemed to.
Now that I'm a mother and a small business owner I work in safe environments. My years of teaching in a dark, damp basement all alone at night are over. God kept me. My times of carting all my music gear to gigs late at night in heels and a skirt to foreign venues, scared out of my gourd are OVER. I don't need to do that anymore and my duty is to protect my family and my children and meet their needs in every way possible. I've done much and learned little and STILL the dream burns.
Three years ago, when I invested so much time and money into the project at West Middle School I was naive. I actually believed that people would understand that music brought emotional and mental healing for their children. I believed that families on the west side were MORE interested in the preservation of their children's emotions and mental well-being than in their actual intellectual education or physical strength and agility (sports). I thought they'd be grateful that there was someone who was talented and cared, someone who was also a single parent with comparable struggles. I found a few who cared….one or two that understood. Mostly, I was ridiculed and "shut down." Mostly, I was told that musicians don't put food on the table….that the children on the west side need "education" in the things that will pay the bills and learning an instrument or "singing" is NOT one of them. It's funny, because I'm a musician who puts food on the table. My instrument got me a GOOD job making GOOD money but the 13 applications I put in for jobs that paid half of what I make now never got me more than an interview. I foolishly thought that what worked for me should work for others.
What else did I have to offer, besides music? It didn't seem like I had much. My dreams have stood but the capacity in which I can fulfill them has changed. My duty is to my family, broken as it is. My devotion is to my Savior whose name I will NOT avoid in this endeavor. I've met with pastors, community leaders, school administrators. I've talked to lawyers and doctors. I've gone up to complete strangers on the West Side and discussed these things with them. I've met these kids, seen them "duke it out" in the hallways and struggle with their studies. I've seen their faces light up at the thought of learning an instrument. I've watched them eagerly write their names on sign-up sheets for after-school music programs only to have their hopes dashed by grown-up arguments and power struggles. I don't even know what I'm asking for anymore. I've been told that "musicianship is for drug addicts and losers." I've been told that math is more important than music (Music is math, genius). I've been told that sitting in a room and reading to kids is more effective than what I've been trying to devote my precious, precious time to and I WONDER if the dream will ever come true.
It's not that I think music is the focal point of this dream. It definitely is NOT. It's what I have to offer to the vision and these days I even believe that the Commune is part of all of it….maybe even the very same thing. The dream has been confirmed over and over again. I've met people with nearly the same dream. I've seen places and faces that I remember from my nights of slumber and I never forget. I never, ever forget. Why is it so important? Why do I care so much? I cannot tell you. I cannot tell you why raising my children and running my business is not enough for me. I'm never bored. I have no time. I work like an animal most of the time with little time for anyone outside of my own family. I cannot tell you why I cannot get past this or why I'm not looking towards the things people tell me are more important. Except, I'm learning that USUALLY people are wrong about most everything. My Savior, the spirit inside of me has ALWAYS been right…..though I consistently reject its knowledge.
Every time I see the opportunity to meet with one more person with influence, I carve out the time in hopes this person will be the one. I lose money to meet with them because I don't want to miss any chance. That person never is. Most don't seem to see the passion in me. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe what I'm passionate about just doesn't matter to anyone but me. To be honest, the dream is not even clear enough that I can COMPLETELY define it.
I know one thing. I know that relationship is what Jesus died on the cross for. I know that relationship is the solution to addiction, poverty, sickness, disease and a broken emotional being. I know that one thing that foster POWERFUL emotional relationship between humans and between God and His creation is MUSIC. I know that I can make Music. I can do a lot of things..but none pervades my life like this one. I'm good at relationship. That may be hard for you to believe if you don't know me but if you know me you have an idea of how my hunger for relationship can drive those avoiding it (for darker reasons) away. The problem with love is that it is not selective…but that's only a problem for the person showing it.
I'll be mocked for caring. I'll be reprimanded for not getting past it. I'll be considered arrogant for wanting the children in this community who have no access to musical knowledge to learn from me AT NO CHARGE. Believe it or not, five years ago I started Studio 3 with NO money and the intent of teaching those that couldn't afford to learn an instrument. My prices were the LOWEST and I offered free lessons in at least half a dozen venues. No one wanted free lessons and the people that found me were the privileged…the families who can afford to give their children anything they want. I don't' teach the under privileged. I teach the wealthiest families in this community. That was God. That wasn't me, but the dream remains. My bills are paid now. Five years ago I had nothing. The dream remains.
Maybe I'll find myself in New York. Maybe it was never New York at all. I see that street in the Phillippines in my minds eye. I can still picture those buildings flashing by out the window of the subway car. I remember the one-legged man on the road to Galena. I've learned the standards on the piano, the oldies, written blues songs, practiced the blues, performed in storefronts on the bad side of town, set up in parks. I've lifted weights and ran miles, fasted and prayed, gone to shelters and community buildings to pick brains….all with the hope of igniting this dream into reality. I've written lesson plan after lesson plan. I've spent HUNDREDS of dollars on teaching tools, some of them my own invention. I've created games and teaching techniques that no one has ever tried and I miss no opportunity to use these things on my current students and get their feedback. I'm TRYING! How much longer, God? WHY is it so hard for me? Is there something else I must give up? Why can't I quite? WHY? HOW MUCH LONGER? I cannot do this alone…but perhaps I was meant to. I'm beginning to wonder.
I remember this girl, barely a teenager, wearing "I love New York" earring because of her prayers and burning passion for the inner city homeless in New York City. I remember that same girl sitting on the subway train in New York City and praying for the abandoned and "For Sale" buildings she passed in New York…that somehow, some way God would give this girl one of those or put her in one of those for the ministry dream she had. Prayers…they change me, always.
I remember the dreams I'd awaken from of revival, of rooms in a building I'd never seen full of music and warmth and laughter and hope. I remember walking a street in the Philippines and viewing the tragedy and poverty in those streets and telling the friends I was with that I wasn't called back there that I was called to the devastation in my own country….that I must somehow bring light to the blinded eyes of those in poverty and addiction.
I remember a star-crossed lover begging her fiancee to pick up a homeless one-legged man on the way to Galena just so we could cancel our day trip and drive him all the way back to Rockford while he told us stories of the hard life he willfully lived. All the while enduring his stench and wrestling with a bit of fear over the whole episode. His mentality changed me. I remember how angry my fiancee was at me for insisting on that. He brought it up even years later. He didn't understand. Come to think of it, nobody ever seemed to.
Now that I'm a mother and a small business owner I work in safe environments. My years of teaching in a dark, damp basement all alone at night are over. God kept me. My times of carting all my music gear to gigs late at night in heels and a skirt to foreign venues, scared out of my gourd are OVER. I don't need to do that anymore and my duty is to protect my family and my children and meet their needs in every way possible. I've done much and learned little and STILL the dream burns.
Three years ago, when I invested so much time and money into the project at West Middle School I was naive. I actually believed that people would understand that music brought emotional and mental healing for their children. I believed that families on the west side were MORE interested in the preservation of their children's emotions and mental well-being than in their actual intellectual education or physical strength and agility (sports). I thought they'd be grateful that there was someone who was talented and cared, someone who was also a single parent with comparable struggles. I found a few who cared….one or two that understood. Mostly, I was ridiculed and "shut down." Mostly, I was told that musicians don't put food on the table….that the children on the west side need "education" in the things that will pay the bills and learning an instrument or "singing" is NOT one of them. It's funny, because I'm a musician who puts food on the table. My instrument got me a GOOD job making GOOD money but the 13 applications I put in for jobs that paid half of what I make now never got me more than an interview. I foolishly thought that what worked for me should work for others.
What else did I have to offer, besides music? It didn't seem like I had much. My dreams have stood but the capacity in which I can fulfill them has changed. My duty is to my family, broken as it is. My devotion is to my Savior whose name I will NOT avoid in this endeavor. I've met with pastors, community leaders, school administrators. I've talked to lawyers and doctors. I've gone up to complete strangers on the West Side and discussed these things with them. I've met these kids, seen them "duke it out" in the hallways and struggle with their studies. I've seen their faces light up at the thought of learning an instrument. I've watched them eagerly write their names on sign-up sheets for after-school music programs only to have their hopes dashed by grown-up arguments and power struggles. I don't even know what I'm asking for anymore. I've been told that "musicianship is for drug addicts and losers." I've been told that math is more important than music (Music is math, genius). I've been told that sitting in a room and reading to kids is more effective than what I've been trying to devote my precious, precious time to and I WONDER if the dream will ever come true.
It's not that I think music is the focal point of this dream. It definitely is NOT. It's what I have to offer to the vision and these days I even believe that the Commune is part of all of it….maybe even the very same thing. The dream has been confirmed over and over again. I've met people with nearly the same dream. I've seen places and faces that I remember from my nights of slumber and I never forget. I never, ever forget. Why is it so important? Why do I care so much? I cannot tell you. I cannot tell you why raising my children and running my business is not enough for me. I'm never bored. I have no time. I work like an animal most of the time with little time for anyone outside of my own family. I cannot tell you why I cannot get past this or why I'm not looking towards the things people tell me are more important. Except, I'm learning that USUALLY people are wrong about most everything. My Savior, the spirit inside of me has ALWAYS been right…..though I consistently reject its knowledge.
Every time I see the opportunity to meet with one more person with influence, I carve out the time in hopes this person will be the one. I lose money to meet with them because I don't want to miss any chance. That person never is. Most don't seem to see the passion in me. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe what I'm passionate about just doesn't matter to anyone but me. To be honest, the dream is not even clear enough that I can COMPLETELY define it.
I know one thing. I know that relationship is what Jesus died on the cross for. I know that relationship is the solution to addiction, poverty, sickness, disease and a broken emotional being. I know that one thing that foster POWERFUL emotional relationship between humans and between God and His creation is MUSIC. I know that I can make Music. I can do a lot of things..but none pervades my life like this one. I'm good at relationship. That may be hard for you to believe if you don't know me but if you know me you have an idea of how my hunger for relationship can drive those avoiding it (for darker reasons) away. The problem with love is that it is not selective…but that's only a problem for the person showing it.
I'll be mocked for caring. I'll be reprimanded for not getting past it. I'll be considered arrogant for wanting the children in this community who have no access to musical knowledge to learn from me AT NO CHARGE. Believe it or not, five years ago I started Studio 3 with NO money and the intent of teaching those that couldn't afford to learn an instrument. My prices were the LOWEST and I offered free lessons in at least half a dozen venues. No one wanted free lessons and the people that found me were the privileged…the families who can afford to give their children anything they want. I don't' teach the under privileged. I teach the wealthiest families in this community. That was God. That wasn't me, but the dream remains. My bills are paid now. Five years ago I had nothing. The dream remains.
Maybe I'll find myself in New York. Maybe it was never New York at all. I see that street in the Phillippines in my minds eye. I can still picture those buildings flashing by out the window of the subway car. I remember the one-legged man on the road to Galena. I've learned the standards on the piano, the oldies, written blues songs, practiced the blues, performed in storefronts on the bad side of town, set up in parks. I've lifted weights and ran miles, fasted and prayed, gone to shelters and community buildings to pick brains….all with the hope of igniting this dream into reality. I've written lesson plan after lesson plan. I've spent HUNDREDS of dollars on teaching tools, some of them my own invention. I've created games and teaching techniques that no one has ever tried and I miss no opportunity to use these things on my current students and get their feedback. I'm TRYING! How much longer, God? WHY is it so hard for me? Is there something else I must give up? Why can't I quite? WHY? HOW MUCH LONGER? I cannot do this alone…but perhaps I was meant to. I'm beginning to wonder.
For the desolate woman now has more children
than the woman who lives with her husband,”
says the Lord.
2 “Enlarge your house; build an addition.
Spread out your home, and spare no expense!
3 For you will soon be bursting at the seams.
Your descendants will occupy other nations
and resettle the ruined cities.
than the woman who lives with her husband,”
says the Lord.
2 “Enlarge your house; build an addition.
Spread out your home, and spare no expense!
3 For you will soon be bursting at the seams.
Your descendants will occupy other nations
and resettle the ruined cities.
4 “Fear not; you will no longer live in shame.
Don’t be afraid; there is no more disgrace for you.
You will no longer remember the shame of your youth
and the sorrows of widowhood.
5 For your Creator will be your husband;
the Lord of Heaven’s Armies is his name!
He is your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel,
the God of all the earth.
6 For the Lord has called you back from your grief—
as though you were a young wife abandoned by her husband,”
says your God.
7 “For a brief moment I abandoned you,
but with great compassion I will take you back.
8 In a burst of anger I turned my face away for a little while.
But with everlasting love I will have compassion on you,”
says the Lord, your Redeemer. - Isaiah 54
Don’t be afraid; there is no more disgrace for you.
You will no longer remember the shame of your youth
and the sorrows of widowhood.
5 For your Creator will be your husband;
the Lord of Heaven’s Armies is his name!
He is your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel,
the God of all the earth.
6 For the Lord has called you back from your grief—
as though you were a young wife abandoned by her husband,”
says your God.
7 “For a brief moment I abandoned you,
but with great compassion I will take you back.
8 In a burst of anger I turned my face away for a little while.
But with everlasting love I will have compassion on you,”
says the Lord, your Redeemer. - Isaiah 54
Comments
Post a Comment